The Blue Arc

I slipped out past the building entrance and jogged down to the concrete apron beside the pocket park. Near the curb, a blunt stub of sky-blue sidewalk chalk lay in a dry seam. I picked it up, snapping the chalk cylinder squarely into the grip of my curved right hand. Kneeling low against the pale slab, I leaned my weight into the stroke and dragged the tip in a sweeping arc across the stone. The plaster ground down with a dry, rhythmic rasp, leaving behind a crisp, vibrant stripe of blue powder that visibly altered the pavement.