LabyrinthineAb

The backpack looks forlorn. Maybe because it is full of unwanted responsibility. Notebooks send furtive glances my way. They clearly scream, "Use me! Please? Just a sentence or two!" My cold, hard desktop does not forgive the long absences for homework procrastination. But my chair is warm and comfortable (it doesn't like the desk) and I imagine the desk away. I dream of times sans desolate desktops, eras without waiting assignments. I envision hot, wet air. It is palpable. It weighs me down (like my neglected homework) and glosses every inch of skin with sweat. Greenery. Everything is green and damp, like me. An inviting b

And here we hide, surveying our prey from the leafy green shade. Big brother and the pack playing the basketball game we were excluded from. Tension mounts and anticipation peaks bigger than the Rockies themselves. We grin at each other in our camouflage as we begin our vengeance. His arm cocks back, little muscles flashing firm as he winds up. Thrown forward, the tension vanishes with the bottle, both arcing through the air. It soars quickly, head over tail, flashing fire and forbidden fun in the sunlight. But the end is slow, when glass meets concrete and the world knows what we've done. Bottle became bomb became bits of shiny shrap