the girl at the playground

By @TheChildPan

the girl at the playground

By @TheChildPan

Chapter 1

From Her perspective

It was foggy, bright and cold in the air, and she was sitting on the slowly spinning carousel of another freshly discovered playground (she collected discovering new playgrounds and neighbourhoods). A yellow raincoat, a shaggy dog, a man with a stroller – all walked by her as she sat – because she was nothing special. She was a pale-faced, messily dressed kid with slightly too big rainboots on the playground on a monday in the beginning of september. She followed cats and stomped in puddles, bought chocolate bars and chewing gum for spare change in her pocket, and she wandered about town at a time of day when most kids her age would be at school.

Her raincoat was also yellow – but it was faded and old, and it didn’t stand out in a crowd like a new yellow raincoat would. She didn’t mind not being noticed by most people; it suited her just fine. Nobody bothered her, except for other kids at new playgrounds she went to, who claimed that it was ‘their’ playground. She took no notice of those, just like others took no notice of her, and left the playground when she wanted.

Sometimes she would have a really Good day, when a stranger-cat would walk up to her and meow and want to be petted, or when she held somebody’s umbrella for them while they were looking for something in their bag, or crossing the street with a stroller (she quite often offered, but rarely got taken up on). Sometimes she would have a really Bad day, when she would see a dead animal, or a grown-up being violent or mean with a kid, or with another grown-up – because sometimes she couldn’t do anything. Sometimes it was far too risky to step up to a violent adult like that, when you didn’t know them or their temper at all – just that they were acting rude.

But most of the time, her days were both good and bad. She balanced it out herself when she could, by going to the grocery store, and people-watching. She really loved people-watching, but sometimes she ‘fell in love’ with somebody from afar, somebody who was extra nice and helpful, or wore extra cool clothes, or who walked around with their nose buried in a book. She really liked those people. Old And young.

She picked up her musicplayer and looked at the display, and it was time to go home. She jumped off of the carousel and into the wet sand, and skipped a few of her steps before walking away with her hands in her pockets.

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