in the twilight years, long before the pre-inception of what mortals now call modern playgrounds, there was an ancient swing, wrought from timeless wood and hung from chains colder than the shoulder we vampires give the sun. this swing, forgotten with time, awaited refurbishment, a chance to rise anew and embrace laughter once more. it was then, under the silent witness of the moon, that the announcement echoed, not through words, but through actions, as i, a creature of night, took it upon myself to refurbish this relic. with a pin, a tool seemingly insignificant to many but invaluable to this task, i restored the swing, ensuring it could once again dance with the wind, inviting souls, young and eternal alike, to share in the joy of flight bound to the earth only by chains.