Brayson Inspiration
Rolling down the concrete, skate-wheels roll and rumble, over cracks, and anthill stacks, and leaves that crunch and crumble. Brand new deck, and skate shoes, a perfect day to ride, not caring what the pessimists say he does his kicks and flips with pride. Dirty looks all down the street, the whole skate rep is bad, but he doesn’t care, he lets them stare, and secretly it makes him glad. You hear the skate trucks clicking as he glides across the road, he has his headphones in his ears and he sings quietly as he goes. But then the skateboard stops and off the board he flips, he rolls and scrapes his elbows up, stands, laughs, and doesn’t trip. The little stumble makes him smile, and he laughs a little more, then he kick-flips down the four-stair, and feels as if he’s finished a chore. He slides around the corner and a prep-kid stares him down, he holds his middle finger up and preppy starts to frown. Another smaller skater kid watches him with awe, he slows down a bit, then pop-shove’s-it, and the little skater drops his jaw. He pushes away and they wave goodbye, and people act as if he commit a crime, so he slows down again, gives a grin, and pop-shove’s-it one more time. Landing like a professional he goes happily on his way, smiling the whole way home, because he had the perfect day. He ignores the fact people say, “Skating’s gay and out of fashion,” because when he thinks about the way he is, skating’s always been his passion.
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