A Yellow Mark
I stepped past the front gate and noticed a thick stub of yellow sidewalk chalk resting in the seam between two concrete slabs. It was worn down on one side, smooth and powdery. Kneeling with both knees pressed against the cool stone, I gripped the blunt cylinder firmly with both hands. I pressed the flat edge against the textured surface and drew a steady, continuous stroke across the flagstone. The chalk gave way with a dry, soft rasp, leaving behind a crisp, unbroken yellow line about six inches long. A tiny scatter of pale dust settled neatly along its border.
