Child's Play

We were enemies separated by the sunbaked gulf of asphalt. As the sun set, we donned the thick armor of cotton sweaters for battle. Street lights flickered ‘till they sputtered out a dull, sickly orange glow onto the battleground below.

The air was still warm with the summer heat; a dull sheen of sweat covered my brow. The cars—steely tanks that roll down our littered No Man’s Land—slowed their fast streaming to a slow trickle of blinding headlights.

There were no rules to war, no way to save yourself once an arm shot out and skimmed across the heated bare skin of your arm. Once you were gone there was no turning back; just another faceless, nameless fatality in this contest

The game was on, the battle had begun, with the air humid and full of pollution it seemed like the sky was on fire; a deep rich indigo-violet that clouded the sky in smog so thick only three stars were visible (Those aren’t stars! An older one said, maybe a general on my side; They’re sat-a-lights!)

There were the concrete sidewalks punctured with the dirtied, blackened remains of old gum. As we scattered through the road, ducking, diving, knees scraping, we ran from the Juggernaut, the enemy from across the trenches, over the four-wheeled tanks that covered us.

Quick then, I dashed across from one trench through the rubble of the blacktop to make it to the other side. Faster, the small pattering of feet behind me quickened and– a tap to the shoulder! No! The bitterness that rose was thick, suffocating the excitement—

The trees rustled with blistering combat winds and carried with the tree’s chatter small giggles of the phantasms of children in war, engaged in heated battle to survive.

I sit alone on the curb remembering peeling address numbers scratching my tiny legs, reminiscing on looking up at the sky and seeing a thousand stars just beyond my little grasp

I sit alone on the curb. (almost completely alone, with three winking sat-a-lights for company) Just another casualty of war.