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Ripples
#WritcoStoryPrompt38
The two girls jumped over the hopscotch they had drawn on the curb with white chalk. It was their favourite game and they would be at it for hours. But on this day, the fundamental forces that govern all things had arranged their laws specific to this moment. The curb was the color of sand, old and failing from neglect. But it was the anchor to which the girls tied their beloved game of hopscotch. The two girls sang a song as they hopped about the uneven squares. It was a melody only children sang, a song known to those few, who still viewed the world with innocence and wonder.
Rays of sunshine collided into grains of chalk dust, held in suspension by the cool morning air. The boundaries of their hopscotch board had shifted by the scuffing and scraping of little footprints as the girls danced about in joyful competition. They had engraved the mystic demarcations of hopscotch onto the earth at dawn, just as the dew lifted. They used broken fragments of chalk, acquired in those places where children find such things; to complete their hopscotch masterwork. Each piece dragged across the asphalt by the two girls, as their skilled little hands writ childish glyphs with great precision. The girls scraped their bits and pieces of chalk until the unearthed bones of carboniferous life joined their youthful flesh. Their board was complete, and the game had begun.
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The two girls jumped over the hopscotch they had drawn on the curb with white chalk. It was their favourite game and they would be at it for hours. But on this day, the fundamental forces that govern all things had arranged their laws specific to this moment. The curb was the color of sand, old and failing from neglect. But it was the anchor to which the girls tied their beloved game of hopscotch. The two girls sang a song as they hopped about the uneven squares. It was a melody only children sang, a song known to those few, who still viewed the world with innocence and wonder.
Rays of sunshine collided into grains of chalk dust, held in suspension by the cool morning air. The boundaries of their hopscotch board had shifted by the scuffing and scraping of little footprints as the girls danced about in joyful competition. They had engraved the mystic demarcations of hopscotch onto the earth at dawn, just as the dew lifted. They used broken fragments of chalk, acquired in those places where children find such things; to complete their hopscotch masterwork. Each piece dragged across the asphalt by the two girls, as their skilled little hands writ childish glyphs with great precision. The girls scraped their bits and pieces of chalk until the unearthed bones of carboniferous life joined their youthful flesh. Their board was complete, and the game had begun.
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