#21 Writer's choice

I looked in the envelope, inside there was a photo of me sitting on the red swing. The memeory came back to me. I can still feel the small gust of wond that came right after the photo was taken. It was an early spring day, I was five years old; visinting my grandparents house. I ran to the old swing set that made a squeak with each rock and I wanted my Dad to puch me as hard as posssible. Once I reached the highest, I could go, the feeling was exhilarating. I felt as though I could fly and touch the top of every tree and said the sky with the clouds.