Breathe a little, Live a little, Yearn a little, Burn a little

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Passion 5

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The bell rang for recess and the kids erupted into excited cacophony, as though recess didn’t come every day, at exactly the same hour. But maybe for children only 5 years old, it did seem like a miraculous release from the tyranny of rules and desks and coloring within lines. Away from the anxious indulgence of home, maybe getting through two hours of school seemed as arduous as any of Atlas’ labors. And so they whooped and hollered their way out into the sun.

He sighed and reluctantly made his way through the door, his anxious eyes darting from side to side. He was a timid kid, slight in build, self effacing manner, the kind you just knew would get bullied on the playground. He kept his head lowered, looking up only to make sure he was unobserved, staying close to the walls of the building. He flinched when any of the other kids came close, his thin body tense. At the edge of one corner of the field, he paused, bent and picked up a glinting piece of blue glass, on it a tiny ladybug. He glanced to make sure no one had noticed and held the tiny piece close to his chest, his breath heavy as he watched the wings of the ladybug. He took a deep breath and giggled softly, as the insect ruffled its body.

He was unguarded in that moment, his worries seemed to have disappeared. And he stepped forward on to the grass, and then froze. You could almost see him shrink into his skin, his face tightening till it looked wizened and old. Facing the aggressive bully of the playground, he knew he had no chance of winning this encounter, not when his opponent was swaggeringly fearless, seeming to grow larger even as he stood challengingly. The grassy corner was his territory and he was willing to defend it against all comers, this puny boy was no match. His eyes glared belligerently, his attitude nasty, he was ready to make the intruder rue his mistake. For a moment, they faced each other, one who knew himself to be the victim, and the other who believed himself the king.

Suddenly the ladybug spread her wings and took off, floating delicately between the opponents. She fluttered her miniature wings and guided herself towards onto the bully’s nose. In that instant, he transformed into a maddened dervish, jumping leaping tumbling trying to get rid of the bug. His thick bushy tail gyrated frantically, his tiny paws scratching at his nose, his mind obviously unable to deal with what had happened. After a couple minutes of this frenzy, he realized the ladybug had long gone, he flipped his tail and scurried up the elm tree, obviously still quite perturbed.

The little boy had looked on in astonishment, his mouth open, his big eyes widening till they could widen no more. As his tormentor ran away from the field, he laughed and laughed, till tears rolled down his cheeks. He laughed and fell to the ground, and rolled in the cool green grass, looked up at the endless blue sky, the wondering faces of the other kids as they watched him, and then laughed some more.

©alka