we were just kids

6 years old

We were 6 when we met. We lived on the same street and we would run between our houses frequently. Danny was my best friend. I was his.

He moved into a small grey house with creaky floors and a large yard surrounding it. I remember holding my mother's hand as she walked up to the old grey wooden porch holding one of her famous welcome-to-the-neighborhood pies. She let go of my hand to knock firmly on the door and a little boy, my age, answered it. He said his name was Danny and then he called for his mother who came running up to the door. That was how we met.

Through the next year, we became best friends. We played tag and we petted the horses and cows that lived on a farm down the street. We hide in the my old weathered red barn that sat behind my house and ran in the empty horse stalls.

One day, in late august, we were playing a game of tag when it started to rain. Thunder cracked over head, and i started to cry. Danny and i ran over to that old barn and huddled next to the dry hay. He gave me a hug and said that was what his daddy did when his mommy was crying.

But we arent a mommy and daddy, i said.

Not now, he said. But maybe we could be when we were big people.

Yea that would be nice. I giggled and we hugged again with the sound of thunder repeating in my chest.