Nov. 25th, 2013

brian_campo: (dubious)
[personal profile] brian_campo
One at a time, Brian shook the nervous energy from his legs.

He stood on the end of a playground slide in one of the city’s public parks. It wasn’t like the places he spent his hours as a kid. There were low acacia and western hackberry trees instead of towering oaks, and the equipment was here was newer. No need to worry about updated tetanus shots. The park was empty except for a nanny caring for a set of twins dressed in too many layers. They bounced up and down on a teeter-totter.

Brian watched for a minute and then turned away. He didn’t want to look like a creep.

His shoes slipped a little as he walked up the incline and climbed over the bar. From up there, he had a view of the swings. Brian thought about his ultimate goal as a kid: to swing so high, he flipped over the bar. He had spent hours in relentless pursuit of it, kicking off the ground and pumping his skinny legs until one day, a chain broke. He wound up flat on his back in the dirt.

Seemed about right.

He flexed his fingers in the wrist splint. It was too tight.

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