Dawn dares to creep over the horizon, painting the alley in a warm glow. While walking that graveled path from the Bowl Arena, I watched the night slowly flee from a rising sun. Those quiet hours were spent reliving the last time I stumbled down that road, bloody and broken. I passed the tree whose roots are decorated with that bundle of forget-me-nots, passed the rocks and plants that were once stained with my blood. Everywhere I looked, my past stared back.
