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Sparkle

I can see it in their eyes,
a glimmering, melting glass that
glazes over and threatens to spill
when they think back to the days
when life was easy.
My parents aren't from around
here. Louisiana and Massachusetts
are pretty different necks of the
wood. They both grew up in big,
nosy families with lots of
kids and grandmothers that
make life taste that much
sweeter, even when they're
gone.
But I was born here, in
the arctic of the continental
United States. No one else in my
family was born here before me.
I guess that's the problem with being
the first one to do something...
At least for a while, you're
the only one.
I've found myself staring at my
face in the mirror so many times,
thinking back on every fond childhood
memory I have, but my eyes never
shine with the same light that my
parents' do.
I know they think their history
is mine but it's not... Because
I wasn't there.I've never known
half of the people in their memories
and the ones I have met aren't the
same. They're not like they used to
be and I wasn't there to see why, either.
In the past, I am alone. I have only
the future to look to and when I do,
my eyes sparkle.



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