His friend lived across the street, and together, they built whole worlds inside an old Super Nintendo. They fought battles as Power Rangers, their fingers quick on the controller, their laughter filling the space between school and sleep.
Then one day, his parents said they were moving.
There was no discussion, no way to stop it. Just a fact.
On his last day in that house, the boy jumped on the trampoline, the sky stretched wide above him. Across the street, his friends house sat still. He wouldn’t knock on the door. Wouldn’t say goodbye.
Because how do you say goodbye to the only place you ever belonged?
That night, they packed up the house. And when they left for a new world, the boy cried.
But no one really saw.
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