As I reached the edge of the childhood aisle, I couldn't help but notice the stark contrast between the memories.
In the beginning, my childhood memories were filled with bright and vivid colors, everything was bursting with life. But as I moved deeper into the aisle, those colors faded, replaced by darker, hazier, and murkier ones.
It was a reflection of how life had changed, how innocence had given way to experience, and how the world had become a more complex and challenging place.
"I guess this is the last of it," I muttered to myself, feeling a sense of finality as I grabbed the last jar in the childhood aisle. It sat right next to the beginning of the middle school section, marking the transition from one chapter of my life to the next.
The next jar in my hand harbored a memory mist swirling in patterns that resembled the design of my cherished stationery paper from my childhood - pretentiously adorned with florals in delicate shades of pink.
