Jefferson Park

The engine starts and the CD rewinds to track #1. I squirm in the middle seat in my white dress that I’ve worn in the same car at the same time for at least the past week. My mom sits next to me and complains about my over-worn dress as my dad laughs with my uncle. We take the same road in the same car to the same park. Jefferson Park.

The hum of a cassette spinning hums about the heart and it’s old love. “You live in my eyes, but you’re so far away”

The 1999 Toyota Camry that would now be considered antiquated smelled distinctively of new leather.

I’m unable to recall the rest. Images of the sun setting over the canal are blurry in my mind, as are the scratches on my legs from the mosquito bites at dusk. As the days go by, I cling onto the memories like sand. The tighter I try to hold on to them, the faster they fall away. Bits and pieces of the music from that CD still cling to my mind as I struggle to keep remember that piece of my childhood forever.

“I swear on these memories…” (Lucky Ali, 1996)