Status: Completed.
Squeking Swings and Childs Play
1
The main focus of a spider web between the wire of a slate fence threatened me to blow them down. I would let the wire gnaw away my nails and soft tissue. My despair helped me to gradually lose my sanity. The sound of squeaky swings and children playing shed the light of inspiration. But the repetitive torture killed that light and replaced it with something spiteful. Mulch stench thickened the air with the smell of manure and pine. A fire burned within. It burned a knot in my throat, and brought tears to my eyes. No one could see it.
Swings squeaked and children played.
The sound of a fast moving ball popping into a glove became the beckon for cheer. Names and numbers chanted. Ball pop. Words. My finger gnawed the wire. My heart beat off rhythm to the cheers and pops. My mouth slowly clenched.
“Out!” That’s where I wanted to be.
The gorgeous black, white and gold uniforms flaunted across the field were ugly to me. The uniform on me felt like too much grease on my skin. Ball pop. Cheers. My head teasing a headache.
Squeaking swings and children playing kept my sanity.
I lost my plastered mask of foolery. My feet became sore from standing too long in one place on my flat feet. Body language showing obvious anger. But who cared? Who really saw the feelings behind my face and the anger that burned within? Would me exploding be the only time they saw?
Squeaking swings and children playing reminded me of my younger days.
Swings squeaked and children played.
The sound of a fast moving ball popping into a glove became the beckon for cheer. Names and numbers chanted. Ball pop. Words. My finger gnawed the wire. My heart beat off rhythm to the cheers and pops. My mouth slowly clenched.
“Out!” That’s where I wanted to be.
The gorgeous black, white and gold uniforms flaunted across the field were ugly to me. The uniform on me felt like too much grease on my skin. Ball pop. Cheers. My head teasing a headache.
Squeaking swings and children playing kept my sanity.
I lost my plastered mask of foolery. My feet became sore from standing too long in one place on my flat feet. Body language showing obvious anger. But who cared? Who really saw the feelings behind my face and the anger that burned within? Would me exploding be the only time they saw?
Squeaking swings and children playing reminded me of my younger days.
♠ ♠ ♠
I remember this day like it was yesterday. I was so upset with my softball coach for not letting me play at all that during the game, I got the inspiration to begin writing this series of stories. I'll give him one thing, he respected my love to write and allowed me to write in the bus we rode to the softball game. Then I wrote this.