Every once and awhile, I would have dreams about my childhood. As cloudy as they were, I could always remember the happiness I had felt during that time. I would hear constant chuckling and the creaking of the old swingset that my late father had built for me in his backyard. I remember running along the old mahogany porch that laid below our feet, squeaking and groaning as we would walk or run along its tired make-up. Oh, how fun it was,but I always feel as if I am missing something. Something of great importantance, perhaps?...

>"Milo!\~ Come play along with me, Milo!\~"

Ah...Emanual. Emanual "The lover" Francoisé.

>"Come on!\~ Come push me on the swings, Milo!\~ Come on!\~"

ㅇAre you *still as impatient as he used to be, my friend?*ㅇ

I remember now...The smell of the freshly mowed grass, the newly planted Rose bushes, and the refreshing air. The sky- the sky on that day was also full of beautiful clouds and emaculate birds that seemed to cascade down from beneath the thick folds of the horizon above us. They looked so free- almost as free as we were, hollering and thrashing our fee- 'just enjoying the time we had left together.

>"I wish this could last forever, Milo! Don't you think so too?\~"

ㅇ*Did you know that I also wished the same?*ㅇ

We would swing for for hours, each swing acting as a new experience for us. Kick the dirt and ******! The exhilaration we gained from repeating this one action. Yes, I used to love it so much. I used to adore Emanual's giggle when he would swing up high. His cheeky smile, his bright words of mirth, and his adoring skittishness.

ㅇ*I wonder if you still has your youthfulness intact with in you, my friend...*ㅇ

Even though I was too inammered with myself to understand at the time, I now realized that he might have only acted on care and compassion. He never spoke rudely of any others, he just loved. He was like a newly bloomed rose in the midst of thorns- so vulnerable to pain- to heart ache. But I, too, was oblivious to this. To everything. Aren't all children oblivious to the things around them? I guess we all were, except for my beloved Emanual Francoisé.

>"Push!\~ Push!\~"

ㅇ*Are you still out there, Emanual? Is your presence still as prevalent as it was in my memories? Are you still as loving as you were when we were younger? I want to see you again, Mr.Francoisé.*ㅇ

ㅁ [Editors Note:]

Greetings. Nice to meet you readers! The name's Dove and I would like to welcome you to my novel.\~ Thank you for reading the first chapter of Beloved Milo.\~ If you have any ideas critiques for this noble, feel free to comment on it. It would really assist me with this novel. Help me do it justice, will ya'?\~ Until next time, see you!