beauty

Shortcuts.

There's a well worn path in Greenville that will get you to the mall quickly. I used it all the time in high school when I worked in a software store out there.

It didn't save time as much as it gave you a change of scenery and less places to stop, invaluable for my old leperous Plymouth Acclaim, whose insides threatened to cave in at every red light. Glorious five years, baby. We'll miss you.

Cut to now. I'm coming back from the mall through this route, which has become even more overused by the deluded Greenville motorists like myself. This congests the one right turn at the last stop sign before the bypass. The old Holiday Inn sat tediously to the right. John made a wise comment which I've forgotten.

Four people ran over the hill, through the drainage ditch and across the street in front of me one at a time.

Sixteen year old girl, white, could have been from an affluent background, beautiful, angry face.

A small ethnic (either Mexican or mullato) boy with a basketball jersey that came down to his knees. Huge afro.

An even smaller white boy, couldn't have been older than ten years old, looked to be from a poorer background, talking alot.

Older boy, around fourteen, tall, lanky. Blonde hair I believe.

They collected at the abandoned parking lot across the street, formed a circle ritualistically and then began to toss a frisbee between each other. Right after school, rush hour traffic. Never seen it in my life.

The gushy diversity fantasy was not what dropped my jaw, kids of all color playing together in harmony, because there wasn't harmony, there was coping.
The kids were just there; who knows how they met, or formed a friendship, or became so strategic and business-like with their recreation.

Out of place, out of time, out of words...I just thought it was beautiful.