• When I was little, I had always clutched onto them. I would dream of them, talk about them, and think about them. Each day, I would grasp onto them and I would think that I could never let them go. I wrote for them, drew for them, and worked for them. People had praised me.

    For the past two years, I had not realised they had gone. For all this time, I have never noticed they had left. While I played, I tied them onto a paper plane and threw them across the horizon. While I laughed, I stuck them onto a metal ball and catapulted them far into the distance. While I talked, they wandered off and lost themselves in the maze of trees and buildings. I didn't notice anything; I was too distracted to observe.

    Now too much time had passed. I had taken too long to recognise my mistakes. I don't have enough time to retrieve them. I don't have the time to gather enough bandages to cover and heal all my cuts and bruises. All that left of me is this black void of space. I had just thrown away the pieces to create the bridge which I must cross in order to succeed.

    At the present time, I could only wonder. Where did all my dreams go?