Childhood Friend

By Kendall Wright

                A green faced child stared at the bottomless pit of toys.

“You cannot play until this is clean.”  A booming voice ruptured a nearby stack of toys causing it to topple over. The steaming red face disappeared behind a barred door.

                As soon as the keeper was gone a tapping came from the window across the sea of disaster. Several long wooden arms reached to tap the tampered glass.

                My legs sunk in the toy as I bolted towards the skylight to find the source of this rhythm.

Two boys were attached to the long branches; smiles almost flawless except for several missing teeth.

The smallest boy of the two held up a small ball.

                His pale arm extended backwards preparing to catapult the ball through the window.

The ball launched from his sweaty palm; darkness surrounded the ball as the keeper chased the boys from my prison.

                My hands wrapped around the ball as I quickly retreated back into my cell.

It was worth a try.