I stop to breathe unable to process. The trees will stand tall and bark will keep it steady. Silence dances through the trees and whips my wavy chestnut hair around like a toy. My breath falls in the holes in the dirt trail. The river sings a song of joy with a perfect harmony to my humming. The trees seem to hush the streams and whisper to the clouds. I seem insignificant, a tiny spec amidst a giant. I must pursue my destiny and keep a steady pace. My worn through shoe's kick up dust and rocks. The light that shines through the canopy shimmers and sparkles like an unforgettable sunset. My mud eyes turn to see the last bridge till my destination. Peace surveys us like a crime case. My mother loves trees so I love them to. Now I see where I must go. My kayak is beached upon cattails. The paddles begging for a ride. I rest with my feet in the water. The pond is filled with life, just the way my father would like it. He would find the geese honks to be annoying and the ducks quacks to be fulfilling. He would enjoy watching the Koi, swim in endless circles hoping to be free from the pond itself. He would remember his story, the story of the pond and the lover.

You need to make a hole for a pond a stern frightening voice says.Joes smile drifted like drift wood on the sea. Nerves bubble inside like acid to a battle wound. The shovel cracks through the earth with pride. Seemingly unfamiliar with the dirt that’s become a rock-hard mud. Sweat beads frolic across his forehead and dive to the bare-naked ground. Dirt soars through the air like a bird without a flight plan, crossing in and out of view like fighter pilots in the sky. He didn’t know it then that the girl he was digging this trench for was going to be his wife and they love each other till death do them part.

Joes shovel hit ginormous pieces of cement that had once been a patio. His body jerked with each hit like an electric vibration of a silenced phone. He was covered in head to toe with dirt. Jared's voice is an annoying little bug that fly's around.  Joe made the mistake of looking up as he was digging. He hit an electrical wire, his body jolted; every muscle tensing like fear ran in his blood. Worms line the dirt piles wiggling wanting to back to their dirt nap. He wished it to be over, so he could make my grandfather proud. Days pasted like minutes.

Joe waited on the porch of a hundred-year-old house. He felt bland, the nervous feeling had reclaimed his stomach. He sits and watches the new Koi frolic under the micro waves. He is proud of his work. Right now, it’s a big deal for him but later he will think of it as nothing. As a simple task. The tiny moments define us. Joe listened to the water fall hearing the choices of the droplets each one a different story, a different path. It was a while ago when Joes father in law, Tony, was in the navy.

Tony didn't think about it, the blood curling fear of the battlefield. Because he knew thinking would sent chills down his spine. He tried to stay away from the thought of holding a gun and taking a life. An innocent person never getting to see the next sunrise. He knew better than to think about how the recoil bruise would be a burning reminder of the soul he held. He watched the news constantly. Every word about Vietnam was broad casted around the nation.  He held on to every word as if it was his life preserver. That’s when it happened, he made the choice to join the navy. It was better than being drafted into the army. To have its nightmares come true.

Questions and answers fly through the air as quick as sound. Military people asking questions to place him in the right division. Tony didn’t think twice to say yes to the question about computer. Who would have guessed it changed his life forever? He was then moved to the pentagon to work with computers. To this day you will never know what he actually did in the Pentagon. If you ask him he will say it was top secret. He was a hair close to being sent to Vietnam. He worked in the Intelligent division of the Navy in the Pentagon. He was close to hearing the hearing the canon fire like a fight between kingdoms. The moments that define us are sometimes the moments we disregard as being big. Tony laughs about it now. I laugh about a story, a story that changes which each time it is retold.  

Every story started out the same way my mother's voice filled the room like a chanting classroom.

"Once upon the time in the land of pink there lived a beautiful princess named Sanee. She had long brown curly locks. In the land of pink everything was pink. The trees were pink, the grass was pink, everything was pink. Pink just happened to be princess Sanee's favorite color...." The middle always different proving its worth and power.

...In the land of green there lived a wicked witch so came up with evil schemes todays scheme was... Now I understand that they were just stories but it is a story I need to remember. All three of these stories shaped me, created me. I owe my brains and life to these simple choices in life.