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We sit in the swing and listen to the laughter of when we used to be young. The back and forth movement takes us to the days when we would lay in the grass, the sunlight filtering through the leaves, staining our faces with small patches of brightness. The shade kept the ground cool, and sometimes we'd lay on our stomachs and breathe the damp, earthy smells, because as children, we knew it would make us live forever.

"Remember that time we found the fountain of youth?" we say now. "Seems like we drank from the fountain of death instead." We laugh our toothless laugh, our hands covering our mouths to hide our pink gums, but we both notice the tears that have suddenly welled in our eyes.

We sit under that tree and brush each others hair, the long silvery strands reminding us of the unicorns that used to visit. They only appeared in the moonlight, and we'd brush and braid their tails until the moon made her way across the sky and the sun quickly followed.

"What happened to our old friends?" We ask now. No one visits us anymore.

The sun slowly sets, and fireflies begin to blink on and off in an almost hypnotic pattern. We stare at them for a while, noticing that they are the only light tonight. We can't see the stars from this place anymore. We used to know each one by name.

"Didn't they say they'd shine for us forever?" We cry. But we've known all along that forever is only real to the young.

The swing slows...then finally stops. We close our eyes and hold our breath, hoping to open them and find patches of sunlight dancing on our faces, but when we open them, it is still night.

We jump off the swing, ("remember when we could jump a hundred feet...yes, yes, we remember") and make our way into the darkness.

"Come. Come. It's time to sleep at last."