Laceless Shoes

Inexplicably they appear in memory from time to time the characters of the long-faded autumns and dim winters Condescending, always ready to pry to pick on, to step on, to say a loud word and suddenly get caught like a nail on a remark thrown by someone at random, like a pebble in the water An unstoppable verbal tsunami pours in, having fun scattering summer huts on the shore I'm a terrified tourist that runs away, trying to escape I dash into stronger huts, but those are also demolished with relentless verbal tide of the condescending characters, But wasn't that panic a usual thing many summers ago, when life seemed a big adventure? Know-it-all omnipercipients, satisfied with themselves, making you want to disappear unnoticed, quietly closing the door from the back side. Has the stream of time taken you all? My secret was simple - I always wore laceless shoes, not to tarry up in the hallway, disappearing without goodbye and without regret escaping from their homes, clogged with the same recycled paper books of the times, which seemed then an invariable attribute of happy days, the days of ignorance and innocence, full of hopes.