Creative Writing

(Lily Choi | The Oswegonian)
(Lily Choi | The Oswegonian)

Only three minutes left.  I take another bite of my blue raspberry popsicle…Brain freeze!


My lips and tongue are blue.  People might think I’m extremely cold…I could get sent down to the nurse, but who would want to go to the nurse?  Her office smells like old people.


First in line, I burst through the doors.  Running fast over the quicksand, jumping to the ladder, which slowly sinks.  I’m the monkey queen.  Hanging upside down, I pull myself up in between the two bars and crawl on the top, making my way to the castle.


I go down the ladder, pushing the others out of my way, zipping across on the bar over the lava.  I reach the log bridge, shaking up and down.  Arms out, one foot in front of the other, don’t look down at your doom.  I jump onto the raft, going up the slide…I hear the teachers protest, but they can’t stop me now.  I reach the top of the tower, slide down the spiral river slide.


At the bottom, I’m caught, taken by the hand.  The lunch lady says something, but I can’t stop staring, her hands are so wrinkly, like mush, and old.  She wouldn’t even make it across the quicksand, let alone work her way over the lava.  The wooden picnic table, where I carved my name, awaits.  I take a seat, and think about tomorrow.  I’ll make it to the swings.

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