Standing next to him, I happened to look at his face. Something inside me tightly clung, finally split. The face, the hands, the glimmer in his eye. The times I'd touched those things. Still felt them as if they were there, making my heart ache all over again. To touch his face, his hair in awe. But wait, he is a man now. Doesn't remember my touch, or the sound of my voice. That time has passed long ago. Where once was the purest of smiles, there is now sadness. Where once was the smell of baby fresh skin, there is now the strong smell of men's cologne. Where once was the softness of young skin, is now the roughness of age.

Yet it is still my baby brother. n

(Editor's Note: a fictional story)