Stolen.

No ordinary Heist.

My Childhood, when I listen to others talk about the seaside, the waves and the beautiful blue skies and the Sun kissing on their skin, enough for them to feel the heat, that they loved to walk across the sand, into the gentle waves.

I tried to recall mine only to remember being on the end of a phone line, in a game of immortality with dragon slayers and a battle with Jason and the Argonauts.

They would be reminiscent about candy floss spinning around in the ice cream van, Slavia starting inside their mouths for the irrisistable taste of sugar.

I remembered candy crush and the eight hours of trying to reach the neverending road of the unseen finish line. Or battle it out with Syphon and the brainstorming of the biggest AI Heist of them all, the Syphon of all bank accounts in numbers beginning with twenty four, don’t ask me why? I presume listening to my Mother who was on constant Bingo with two and four knock on the door.

Crazy I do believe now at the age of twenty I could actually be capable of pulling the biggest Hiest of all, humanity, sure.