What’s Hiding Under the Playground Woodchips?
When I was in kindergarten we were all afraid of quicksand. We didn’t even really know what it was or where to find it. The blockbusters that scared us weren’t specific, so we thought it could be anywhere. Under the woodchips, by the gazebo. We played at adventurer, but we knew that was a game. This was years before most of us understood real fear. Fathers who smashed things, mothers too depressed for your needs, boyfriends who didn’t comprehend no. But it was right around the corner, under our feet, invisible to the eye, an open mouth waiting to swallow us whole. All we could do was travel in packs and hope a hand would reach out to grip ours in time.
By Chelsea Stickle
- Chelsea Stickle lives in Annapolis, MD. Her work appears or is forthcoming in Jellyfish Review, formercactus, Bone & Ink and Occulum. Find her on Twitter @Chelsea_Stickle.
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