Days of Tricycles Past

Playground, Lunchtime

After (un)sucessfully completing the cinnamon challenge, Abitha and Mushroom have gone inside, leaving Skunk, Lizbeth and myself out here. As I write, Skunk has Lizbeth in a bearhug - she’s given up struggling. Remember when I said this happens a lot? Yeah. That.

Ninety-nine red balloons is going on replay in my head, and Lizbeth observes that she should give up giving up for lent. Which is 30 days in. So far, I don’t think she’s doing a very good job. An apple sits on Skunk’s lunchbox, abandoned while she pursues her ambition of tormenting Lizbeth as much as she possibly can.

“I need to go put my stuff away” my slave announces, releasing Lizbeth immediately and returning to the bar in the ground. Lizbeth leans over to read my writing, which somehow leads to a joke about rape (which isn't funny, by the way). I sit back and look over to the mess of cinnamon powder on the floor.

“Such a waste” I say to no one in particular, and no one in particular responds. Today is one of those days. Still. Third wheels are great on tricycles.