Microcosm

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  The microcosmical playground nurtured them all in its own quiet way. The popular boys played basketball on the tarmac to the rhythmic ping of an overfilled ball, disregarding any semblance of score keeping in favour of pointless fun and macho jibing. The prettier girls sat on the sidelines, dreaming of the day when they’d don the familiar yellow miniskirts and cheer them on proper. On the field the less popular boys kicked a soccer ball around the baseball diamond, deciding on the rules to their amalgamated game as they went, some clutching their half eaten lunch as they ran to reach third base. They had no female peers watching but enjoyed themselves regardless, laughing laughs that carried all the way to the perturbed downers on the far side by the fence. Their cigarettes hung limply from their lips as they ran their fingers through their hair and joked about missed assignments and a future that will never be theirs, full of Stratocasters and adoring fans. They would all take it long after graduation, those memories would remain vibrant whilst the purples of their mortarboard caps faded in a box somewhere in the recess of an attic. The everything that carefree time harboured would live on in all of them, in happy retrospect or bitter regret, only time would tell.

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~ by Joseph Blame on October 14, 2010.

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