Square Three

I slipped past the front gate and eased down the shaded sidewalk incline toward the corner. Across the smooth pavement under an oak tree, someone had drawn a hopscotch court in thick blue chalk. A flat, rounded river pebble sat stranded just outside the lines. Deliberating only a moment, I nudged my long edge against the stone and shifted my weight into a firm, unhurried shove. The pebble skidded across the dust, coming to rest dead center inside square three. Gathering my own momentum, I glided cleanly over the line right behind it to take my turn.