Go on.

Someone plays "Ooh Child" from a car stereo, windows rolled down. You have a new book in your hands, a new song in your ears, your toes finally peeking out of your shoes as you step around sidewalk chalk drawings. The sun paints everything a spectacular golden green through the trees, and there's something in the air that you want to grab hold of, hold on tight forever. Are we grown way too far? You think in song lyrics now. In cliches and platitudes.

Jump up and touch those new leaves.

(Have you always been this alive?)

Go on. No one is looking.

(It's going to be a damn good summer.)

Go on. I double dog dare you.

© Zan McQuade. All rights reserved.