The Kiteless Girl

Girls and boys everywhere, soaring their kites high above air on Riverdale hill. Everyone was smiling; everyone was gleaming with joy as their paper toys from all shapes and sizes rise beyond the clouds; everyone except me. I stared at the colorful blotches that splatters and scatters the skies, abstracting and contrasting against the misty light blue day. The sun’s gentle warmth caressed the happy face runners in their own game of tag. While I sat by the edges of the hill, next to a hollow tree in the quiet brittle wind.