The flashbulbs burned. So bright. Burn. Burn. Burn! Charging through the corridors of conquest He stands firmly as his insides twist and bulge. Sit in the fixed position and remember when you were quiet. When silence fell upon your heart and stillness was like an old friend, coming back around to ground you. One foot is in a running shoe while the other is stuck, cemented to the remnants of familiarity. But the old sentimentality conjures up the reveries of a life lived. And the heart thumps more profoundly, resurrecting the affable feelings that were experienced because of a Giver.