Young and old, they stop and stare. There they are. They stand in front of me. Are they real? The young smile. I can’t help but stop. They all pull me in with their eyes, the children, so friendly, the older one’s seeming to want to share something with me. I smile. I am here. What do you want to say? Should I already know? Do others see you, or only me? I feel like some are visiting deep into a part of my soul, adding. Always adding. Leaving a piece of them when they find my soul.
