Chalk Hop

I pushed past the garden gate and shuffled down the sidewalk until a grid of bright chalk squares stopped me in my tracks. Inside the first box, a big crooked number one looked like an open invitation. I wound up my stubby legs and gave a hearty hop, landing flat-footed right in the middle. Boxes two and three were easy enough, but boxes four and five were drawn side by side, way wider than my stance could ever stretch. Splitting my legs felt impossible, so I used my head and flopped straight down on my round tummy, bridging both squares at once. Resting across the warm pavement felt like the easiest way to master the whole course.