Chalk Incursion

A sudden, jerky leap carried me straight through the gap in the doorway and out onto the rough asphalt of the driveway. Right there against the coarse gray stone sat a white chalk stickman, sketched in crude, scrawling lines. In an abrupt twitch, I whipped my flat paddle overhead and slammed it down squarely across the chalk figure's neck. A powdery burst of white dust flared into the morning air. I locked my thin legs in place and held my ground without flinching, my wide mouth frozen open in complete silence as the dust drifted across the pavement.