All Nonfiction
- Bullying
- Books
- Academic
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Heroes
- Interviews
- Memoir
- Personal Experience
- Sports
- Travel & Culture
All Opinions
- Bullying
- Current Events / Politics
- Discrimination
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Environment
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
All Hot Topics
- Bullying
- Community Service
- Environment
- Health
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
- Back
Summer Guide
- Program Links
- Program Reviews
- Back
College Guide
- College Links
- College Reviews
- College Essays
- College Articles
- Back
Perfect Squares
They were a toybox beside me. They danced and sung and laughed and spoke in little voices. They told me who they were: toys at a toyshop come alive after dark. I could be the ballerina if I wanted to. Did I want to?
They played the field beside the hopscotch courts, where the grass, run and skipped and stumbled over a million times, had become dirt. Nearby, I could hear the girls’ feet darting in and out beautifully of the perfect squares.
Next to me, a redheaded girl squealed in an off-key voice, Hurry, the shopkeeper will close the shop soon, hurry! The others broke out into a wild flurry of leaps and shouts as they all became their respective selves: a stuffed kangaroo, a jack-in-the-box, a porcelain doll. They laughed and they giggled, the shuffle-stomp noise of the hopscotch girls resonating in the background. They asked me, asked me many times. Did I want to dance and sing and pretend with them? Did I want to tune out the shuffle-stomps; did I want to be a toy? The shuffle-stomps echoed throughout the playground: the perfect squares, the giggling girls with their tidy shoes. Did I want to be a ballerina?
Similar Articles
JOIN THE DISCUSSION
This article has 0 comments.