Friday, July 06, 2007

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.

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