Park

The swings in the park were full of children. Some teenagers were playing with a Frisbee. The young man who sometimes slept in a tattered sleeping bag on a bench was gone. A group straggled up with coolers and chairs to claim some picnic tables in the shade. I wondered if the soccer players who left so much trash behind each time would show up today.

Please use the open space below to share your first 50 words on the topic “park.”

Advertisements

Author: Virginia DeBolt

Writer and teacher who writes blogs about web education, writing practice, and pop culture.

2 thoughts on “Park”

  1. Zoey Longhair’s skinny dad had to part ways with her just after midnight as they charged past the deserted park. He was old and powerless against the Red Nail Gang. With claws sharpened, Trenchcoat Tabby, Black Bandana Shorthair, and Tuff Tuxedo Tom were after his little Zoey in a case of mistaken identity. He knew she hadn’t stolen their cat treats, and she would do better without him. After many hours, Zoey evaded the Gang and ran home. In secret, she enjoyed their treats as she drifted off to sleep.

  2. One determined old couple silently walk on the dew – dusted concrete path , interspersed with grass. It is their daily routine . Even the birds know them . The bulbuls don’t fly off at their sight . They have to make way between groups of babblers , babbling away in the early morning pale light .

    Unlike the babblers , and the mynahs hopping , tweeting in the trees , the couple are silent . All this years of living together , they are comfortable in each others’ silent company . There is nothing more to say . They march almost , feet falling in rhythm , as they walk , in the park .

    The park needs some dedicated attention . The artificial lake has dried up , and the water hens have disappeared . So have the ducks . The fountains do not work , and the benches would do with a fresh coat of paint.

    The lawn grass has been freshly mowed and the air is thick with the grassy smell. Cut grass swept into heaps , lies , waiting . The bower top vine has also been trimmed , and it no longer grazes the old man’s head as he passes beneath it . He is a very tall man , still upright despite the years .

    Though years of care have drooped the shoulders of the old woman , and she walks with a slight stoop, slightly out of breath , trying to catch up with her athletic husband .

An open space for your story

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s