2011 Young Voices Conference Instant Web Anthology

The leaves were still green. The trees, tall and dark against the sun, stretched across the yellow horizon. I closed my eyes. I inhaled the cold air. I heard the park’s music. Sparrows sang their songs. The wind whistled against my ear and rattled the trees. Joggers pounded their feet against the ground. Opening my eyes, I saw a large rock and decided to sit on it. The back of my thighs burned against the cold surface. The rock was rough and hard to the touch. I looked down the path. The hill was covered by yellowed grass, flattened by our soles. I walked down the hill’s dirt path. Rocks of varying shapes and shades crushed and crunched against my steps, until something caught my eye. A dead baby mouse. Its flesh was still red. My gaze narrowed on the body while I heard the park’s reaction. The trill of sparrows replaced the rasping caw of crows. Then the world was silent and I was alone. I closed my eyes. I still see the little red legs, the tip of the toes, blue and curled. I opened my eyes. I looked up at the rock. Exhaling hot air, I walked up the hill.