A Mark on the Concrete

I stepped past the garden gate and out onto the open sidewalk. Wedged inside a narrow seam between two concrete slabs was a blunt stub of pink chalk, coated in dry dust. I pulled it free with both hands. Crouching low over the rough stone, I pressed the flat edge down firmly and dragged it forward in one slow, deliberate pull. The chalk rasped against the grit with a solid scrape, leaving a thick pink stripe straight across the pavement. I let go of the stub, watching the dust settle into the stone. The wide walkway feels anchored now.