3 min write

I stare piteously at my grandkid- kid jumping with aggressive joy at each completed level of a mindless game displayed on the computer screen, played by hitting a key repeatedly, with hands trembling will-less I crane my neck to look upwards through rows of buildings, all I see is A handful of stars in a hazy, un-naturally lit-up bright night sky less cared by many bumbling lives Each innocent night, every night as a child, I used to sit by my father who made up stories divine on group of stars a line, a mat, a dog so like animated with my awesome nods I used to hear his voice till I drooped like a feather sound asleep, sleep so pure, so restful even angels smiled and twirled then in my dreams with colorful streams That serene childhood filled with fun, with love rich with truth, with honesty that angel sleep,that angel dream can never be passed on can never be re-lived through our children, ever again