Chalk Square One

After hopping down from the hallway stair, I slipped past the cracked front door and walked down the stone garden path to the front sidewalk. Splayed across the pale concrete was a bright turquoise hopscotch grid drawn in thick, powdery chalk. I approached square one, measuring the distance before taking a springy, two-footed hop into the center. My glittery shoes met the rough pavement with a firm, satisfying slap, kicking up a tiny puff of blue dust that lightly coated my gold ribbons. Tipping forward onto my toes to steady my landing, I checked the chalk line behind my heel—completely untouched. I immediately lined up for the next box.