Time Changes

They were young once.

Innocent.

They played and sang and wished like any other child would, because they could.

Because Time did not change

Not now, not ever.

Time did not touch youth; did not lay a wrinkle upon their skin or a scar upon their hearts,

Until Time did change.

And there was war.

The world was in danger of destruction every year, and they grew to be aware of how to harness that danger, that power.

They learned to lie, to sneak, and to steal. They learned to laugh at misery and destruction and decay, for what more was there? What else was there to do at the end of the line but to die?

And Time changed again.

Through the war raged an undercurrent of a primordial power of hormones which had lay dormant for thirteen years. With newfound thought and height they changed tactics; they grew bold and reckless to assault the home front of peace. And when at night, when the silence made loneliness ever so evident, when they finally became aware of how isolated they were, body and soul, they all but held themselves and cried.

And Time changed again.

And a little girl, who was no longer a little girl, and a little boy, who was no longer a little boy, met.

And Time changes, it always does, but through chance meetings and first kisses, there are some things that never change. Somewhere, deep within their souls, they are still just a little boy and a little girl wondering why they are so tall and why they are so lonely.

Somewhere deep inside, they wonder why…and why not.