The things...

I remember these things, too...

The sweet fluffy aromas escaping into the air.

The stillness of my body as I trudged along the tile. 

The watering of my mouth as my taste buds awakened.

Then their was the sight of that sewage smelling muck.

I could hear the vibrations of my mothers footsteps like bullets of rain on a pale.

So as she neared I became frightful and quickly disposed if it. I did not want to prolong the morning.

I stood up and followed as she guided me to the sweet aromas. Then we were off. I entered the jungle with formal projections. I strolled with calm struts.

A stinch arose like a grenade,

So powerful my innocence could not seteine why.

As I geared up for our normal routines I noticed the muck. It was inescapable and consumed me whole.

I thought "what should I do?"