the sun had slowed things down, you see

I stare. I stare endlessly into the black tar that covered the basketball from corner to corner. Time had yet to exist as a variable. I lay on my stomach atop two plastic skateboards. I use my feet to go two and fro, in the same spot. I loosely trace circles on the black rubble with my index finger. With my face parallel to the floor and only three inches away from it, I see everything at a ninety degree tilt. Alternately beaded yellow and white plastic jump ropes slap the floor. Basketballs roll out to the corners of the court. Pogo sticks squeak as they bounce past me. I was content. We were all content.

I stare at the puddled floor of the girl's bathroom on the ground floor. I hate how the flush never works. The water continues to leak, slowly adding to the puddle. I lean against the tiles. I know they are not clean, and I wouldn't ever lean against the tiles. But I lean. I have more on my mind than the never-been-washed square white tiles. I kick the wall. Nothing happens. The echo of the exhaust fan is mind numbing. I stare at the disgusting wet floor and wonder what the original color of the tiles was. Ten minutes have passed. I still do not know what to write. I tell myself to gather composure. As the words of my standard motivation speech recite themselves in my mind, my tears find it easier to slip out of the corners of my eyes. My vision is blurred. The questionable color of the floor still bothers me. More tears. I clench the tiny papers in my hand. I have forty four pages of chemistry micro-xeroxed in my hands. I still don't know what to write. Time had passed me by too fast.