When the slide falls, Shelley and her troops egress (never say retreat) back to the jungle gym and hole up with what’s left of their balloons.  It’s hell out there.  The sandbox is all mud, and the out-of-bounds hill is covered with soaked kids.

“Whatta we do, sir?” says Pincton.

“We wait.”

Over the swingy bridge comes the chanting of the hordes: Shelley’s smelly, Shelley’s smelly.

“Don’t listen to ’em, sir.  We’re with you, doesn’t matter if -”

“Stop right there soldier.”

She hefts a balloon in her hand, feels it wobble.  This one, she thinks, is for you, Cameron Sneed.


One Response to “Jungle”

  1. Ah, playground warfare. Brings back memories.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: