It wasn’t the lights that attracted her to the place of pleasure and exhilaration,
but she was beckoned by the calls of her childhood memories.
Back when everything was different and she had the assurance that today would be just another day and tomorrow was something to look forward to.
It was a truth that she had long sought,
one that she had momentarily forgotten.
The longing was growing into desperation as the time went by and she wanted to see the place again.
The stagnation amidst the bright lights and chaos in children screaming for their parents’ attention: they were usually her weakness as she would admit in defeat at the blaring sights and sounds.
That, however, wasn’t true for her now.
She wanted to find it.
She needed it.
She would wallow in the sameness and the noise.
She would feel at peace.
She would find herself again, and her childhood memories would help her ignite her hopes and dreams that were long buried.
A self-inflicting action that she had come to regret, for time was the looking glass she required, only to find it too late.
She had found it shattered and there was no way of fixing it.