Frank was standing leaning on the playground fence, watching the kids on the playground. “Would you look at that?” he asked. “How are they doing that?”

At first I wasn’t sure what he meant, then I saw it. All the kids on the playground seemed to be moving in slow motion. A kid whose posture clearly showed he was running was nonetheless picking up his feet v-e-r-y s-l-o-w-l-y and moving them forward and putting them down just as slowly.

“Oh my gosh, look!” Frank pointed. A kid had just fallen off the slide, and he was floating slowly down through the air, like a feather, though the impact when he landed sent up a great cloud of dust. But the dust also expanded in slow motion.

I shook my head. “I don’t get it either, Frank, but—” And then I saw something yellow out of the corner of my eye. I looked up, then said, “Oh.”

“What is it?” Frank asked.

“That sign. I think it explains everything.”

He turned to look, and his eyes widened. “I guess it does at that.”

The sign read, “SLOW CHILDREN AT PLAY .”