And all they could do was cry.

“Do you recall what adults always told us when we were young?” A muted voice managed to escape from the bird’s nest that had been stuck on the roof of their heads. The cuckoo stayed as they sat on the white sand, which felt like sugar when it touched their skin. The sun was still sleeping for the next two hours, just enough time for them to drop into the gentle part of their souls.

It chirped again, wanting to start a conversation with them. “Act your age.”

Naturally, a flat line formed over their brows, their fore eyes fixed on the vast depth of Neptune. The swaying water acted somewhat in a friendly way of saying they were not alone. “That’s weird,” they replied, as those three words made little sense.

Their twenties were also their teens, in a sense. Growing up wasn’t supposed to transform them into a person with a blank canvas holding a brand new quill, right?

Memories flooded back to when they were kids with only purpose of being a princess one day and a warrior next. Back when they were students who felt burnt out at some level but also didn’t care about their studies most of the time.

“Act,”

“My age?” Tomorrow, this conversation will be blurrier than it should have been. The ideals did not come out as easily as they had thought. “It’s difficult, don’t you agree?”

And all they could do was cry.