To Live
In the northwest quarter of Madrid lies the quiet neighborhood of Saconia where most of the hustle and bustle comes from children getting to and from school. Each morning, my companion and I would pass by the school playground as the children would laugh and giggle as they ran and played. Their carefree attitudes reminded me of the happiness that can sometimes get lost as we mature into responsible and ostensibly more rational adults. I saw the beginnings of that maturation when our passing coincided with the appearance of the teacher. Suddenly, all games would cease and the children would quickly form lines, waiting to be called into their classes. Innocence remained the primary characteristics of their countenances, but some had already mastered the ability to lose any sense of joyous expression. These few adroitly eliminated anything that resembled the happiness they displayed moments before and in its place glared a stoic, almost lifeless gaze. Leaving the children behind, w...