A long, long time ago.

I remember this one time, when I was about eight, we went out to my cousins' property (or farm for some). It was during one of their American bus tours, and we had snuck out on the one night to one of the creeks. Since it was Winter the creek was dry, so we dug a little ditch, and we all huddled in. And we started talking and laughing about all sorts of things. Like how our Grandparents were the replacements for each other's disabilities, so my Granddad was the eyesight for my Narnie, and Narnie was the hearing for Granddad. Then we started talking about what would we do if we had $1 million dollars, then it turned on to a more serious conversation, heaven and hell. We talked about what each meant to us, and all of us had the exact same belief, heaven was some place that wasn't here ( none of us believe in God) and hell was here, Earth. That if you were going to hell you were doomed to spend your afterlife here. Then our cousins (who are all sisters) had a fight and one left. But that night still sticks with me. I still remember how gritty the wet sand was, the stars shining in the night sky, the feeling that we were the only ones that existed, the sound of a guitar in the distance, the soft, cool air on my arms and most all the overall feeling of love.