Ficlets

The cement was still fresh when she walked outside. They all started talking about the possibilities of leaving fresh wet cement unattended with crazy teenagers nearby. Everyone had some lyric or name they wanted to scribble, a permanent mark, a sure ticket to infamy.

But of course one-by-one everyone went home, their ideas remaining simply ideas. No one really had the courage or the desire to follow through with every kids dreams.

With everyone gone she found a strong looking twig in the bushes and hunched over the patch of cement. Hesitantly she hovered the twig about a millimeter from the future sidewalk, her moral standards and free-spirit in contrast.

In her tidy scrawl she scribbled her dreams, giving into to her inhibitions. The quiet, shy girl using her voice.

And forever it remained in the walk.

Sara & Wyatt.