Chalk on the Stone

A thick stick of yellow chalk was lying on the driveway... blunt and dusty. I stretched down... pinching it between my long yellow fingers. It felt so powdery... crumbling into sweet little grains against my palm. I bent low... pressing the tip hard against the rough asphalt. Scritch... scratch... a bright golden line followed my hand wherever I moved. I swung my long arm in a wide, sweeping loop... round and round... until a giant circle surrounded my yellow feet. When I blew gently... a tiny puff of yellow smoke flew up... dusting my knees like sweet pollen.