Word Count: 100

Monday

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dedication: SilverStream101, you're awesome.
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"Hey, Luffy, remember when we were young?"

So he dreams. Not of the vast blue skies yet to be seen, but of those that have long since faded into nights, the sun leaving behind the past.

The grass is soft under his feet, ticklish reminders of a home waiting to welcome him back to the warmth of childhood, but his fireplace is cold and he has no wood to burn.

And so he dreams of the cold. An empty world with familiarly foreign faces in a life past.

Even in his dreams, he has lost a brother.

The aching grows.