"oil"

Swirling rainbows, twisting and turning like riverbanks, try to escape the confines of the puddle, eager to slither to the next adventure. I’m ever so-gently twisting the viscous liquid further using the broken branch off a nearby oak, stirring like my mom stirs pancake batter on Sundays. I chomp on my last piece of Bubble Yum as it loses its flavor, a stale, sugary film coating my tongue and teeth, and I start to push air into a balloon shape at the end of my lips. Smack! Her little pint-sized hand reaches from behind and pops my bubble, coating the end of my nose and lips with the stale, sticky, diluted pink gum. A light, effervescent giggle emerges - somewhere off my right shoulder - and there’s a tickle in my ribcage as I, too, start to giggle. Falling back from my crouched position…