Like a flashback or tunnel

Four kids,

And as each one passes 

They get shorter and shorter 

running from a tall man with a fluffy pillow

All of them jump on top of a bed, the blankets and sheets rustle, 

Almost pearl like feathers from the pillow slowly trickling down landing softly in the children’s hair

Onto the carpeted hard brown floor, giggles and the screaming of four happy children,

A father who has a smile cheek to cheek with bright shiny white teeth, 

Dark brown eyes with a sparkle or glow witnessing the moment before him,

a moment none of them could possibly forget.