We played golf with pine cones and sticks, and stood on a stage with no audience but our own words and thoughts.
We are remembering what it means to be warm again, to leave the windows open and smile in the sun.
We are remembering what it means to breathe the air with no restrictions.
We put bare feet to the ground and eat frozen yogurt while standing on the sidewalk because it just feels so good.
(this is exactly what we needed)
We’ve been in the prison of Chicago winter, and it has broken us down into fearful creatures that whisper in the corner about the weather, as though it will hear us and maliciously dump another foot of snow on top of our frozen, soggy little heads.