Blisters formed and burst where grimy hands clenched sun-kissed steel bars, swinging to and fro, climbing hand-over-hand to claim the top tier of the monkey bars. I looked down at the palms of my hands. I rubbed them together briskly, till sweaty dirt and dead skin pilled up and rolled off. I picked at the blisters, then swung across to the second set of cube-frames, where I hung from the knees, reaching down, arching my back, willing my arms to grow longer, trying to touch the steaming asphalt and missing by a knuckle.
The monkey bars were my castle. My Mt. Everest. My rain forest. My circus act. Imagination filled in the blanks between the bars, shifting images like a hologram to fit the whims of an eight year old creator.
I didn’t create him, though. I didn’t invite him into that world between worlds; he never could have seen it.
“Hey, dummy. Whatcha doin’?” Voice full of swagger.
I didn’t speak. Didn’t want to break the bubble, didn’t want the technicolor daydream to drain out into his lard-lethargic, dull-witted, monochromatic world. Didn’t want his to seep in and sap mine. I squinched shut my eyes, willing him to disappear. He stood behind me, trapping me between the bars.
A squishy sound rumbled between his plaque-flocked teeth – a wet swishing, swelling, swilling of saliva. “Sptiu!” Thick wet spit plopped on top of my head. And just like that, he disappeared. Maybe he dissolved. I rubbed what was left of him out of my hair with dried leaves and let the wind whisk him away as the sun dried him into nothingness – along with my castle.
Inspired by childhood memories and Marian Allen’s prompt at How I Used Prompts To Write 31 Stories in 31 Days #amwriting @StoryADayMay.
P.S. Call this “historical fiction.” I don’t have a vivid memory of the actual event, but I do remember my dad sticking up for me and having a word with “the boy.” I don’t recall what was said, but I hope it set him on a better path before he went too far down the one he was on.
HollyJahangiri
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it’s a shame you don’t get paid for this stuff.
Rasheed Hooda recently posted…An Unusual Business in an Unusual Place
I’ll check out the prompts – writing shorts is sometimes useful; prompts might make the idea come faster.
If you write a bunch, they can be a collection of stories.
Alicia Butcher Ehrhardt recently posted…Signaling literary ebook audiences by pricing strategy
I love prompts, Alicia! I post one every day. 🙂
Marian Allen recently posted…Read This Book
Just check out Marian’s whole blog. And her books. And her stories about a certain librarian… ::whistles innocently:: that ought to be made into a whole book… 🙂
Wonderful, as always, Holly! So sad that your castle vanished along with your dragon. 🙁 Maybe you can’t have one without the other?
Marian Allen recently posted…Read This Book
Oh, my dragon’s right here, Marian. That was just one pissant boy, not a DRAGON. 😉 Dragon’s fine. Castle’s rebuilt. But the monkey bars weren’t all that magical after that.
HollyJahangiri recently posted…Oven Fire
Great description of time on the monkey bars, Holly. I used to do that when I was an agile and risk-taking kid — and in the summer on the farm, I tried all those tricks in the cherry tree. That was an even bigger risk because my dad had forbidden us to climb the young fruit trees. Sure enough, I broke a branch off the cherry tree and got in trouble. Little old risk-taker me finally reformed when I got older. I don’t climb trees or monkey bars anymore. 😀
Patricia Stoltey recently posted…Sweeten it up like you’re sending them a love package from their favorite bookish bae … by Jes Dory
I stuck up for you then and always will.
<3 Glad I've always had you in my corner.