"When will I ever see you again..?" Their thoughts went by like the gentle breeze of the chilling night. It was a never-ending loop that lingered in their mind. The concrete path with the grass planted by the ends of it; there lies a mound where dandelions sprout out of every once in a while. Planted in the middle, stood a tree that firmly grasped its roots on the mound. A dandelion, stripped away of its white fur leaving a bud stays gently tucked between the tips of their fingers; for they blew on it with their hope grasping on the myth of a wish coming true.