You could almost hear the laughter of the kids, the squeaking of trainers, the crash of the backboard or the swoosh of the net.

People had won and lost on that court, people had smiled and cursed and there was a beauty to its abandonment, the emptiness allowed the mind to search for the stories the place had seen and created.

There is something beautiful about a place and how it can inspire thoughts and ignite the imagination.

But more than that when I re-read her words I feel the need to tell them stories. I remember how the imagination was free to roam and connections came easy. I inhaled and looked into the darkness, through the light. She was beautiful and so at ease. I missed her and I missed a little part of me.