I’m adjusted my plaid mini-skirt in the mirror, making sure my knee-high socks aren't sagging before I grab my tiny satin backpack for the mall. The neon glare of the food court is buzzing, but when I try to snag a taste of my brother’s fries, he hits me with a "No soup for you!" just like on Seinfeld.
Everything feels like it’s moving in slow motion while "One Sweet Day" blares from the overhead speakers, Mariah’s high notes drifting over a sea of kids trading Pogs near the KB Toys. I keep checking the Windows 95 display, daydreaming about a world where the web actually loads as fast as Buzz Lightyear flies.
Memories from that day
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