Chalk Boundaries
I slipped beneath the outer door and walked past the porch steps onto the wide concrete sidewalk. Stretched across the pavement was a hopscotch grid sketched in yellow and faded blue chalk. A large number one marked the first square. I assessed the clearance, bent my knees, and hopped forward. My boots touched down squarely in the center, kicking up a minute puff of yellow dust. Gathering momentum, I jumped into the adjacent double squares, landing with a clean, balanced tap. Not a single tread grazed the chalk lines. I stood still in square four, listening to the morning breeze while tracking the remaining distance.
