What it's like: The Playground

It's like:

• Swearwords and numbers scratched into wood.
• The pinched wheezing of seagulls.
• The human evidence of an overturned trash can.
• Swings wrapped tight to the top bar.
• Dark fists of dogshit in the sandbox.
• The taste of grass and sand.
• The slow spin of a upended bicycle wheel.
• Mosquitoes drugged by the sun or heavy with blood.
• A crumpled coupon used as a bookmark.
• Friends, then enemies, then friends again.
• Unexpected acceleration on a slide.
• The cranky thief and his adult enabler.
  
• Provisional snacks in collapsed bags.
• Acrobatic over-ambition.
  
• Conversations put on hold by tears.
• Quick comparisons: age, height/weight, mood, intelligence.
• The silence of teenagers at the grassy margins.
• Joy, then pain, then joy again.
• The muddy blood from a strip-mined knee.
• Warnings that become orders that become ultimatums that become excuses to leave.