Telephone/Teller Fun/Tailor Foam/Terraform
The children on the playground sit, encircling Emilia who pretends to be asleep in the sand. They begin to play a game recently learned in Mrs. Watt’s class.
SYMBOL TIRES SANDY LEERS
CYMBAL TIERS SANTA YEARS
But before the revolution is complete, Emilia is up and shouting: Wrong! All wrong! That’s not right!
You don’t understand, Em. That’s the point of the game. It’s fun.
No it’s not! It’s no fun! It’s wrong!
So. You’re not even playing. Go away. Let us play.
You’re all wrong!
Running away, she blots her eyes. Disappears to the gate, far from the monkey bars and slide, swings and seesaw, where she finds a stick and begins hacking the chain link, playing samurai showdown. So busy she is attacking it she doesn’t notice Jasmine there nearby, hanging headless Barbies along the gate. Jamming twigs in their necks. Standing back, pitching rocks at their carcasses. Slowly, she backs away. Luckily Jasmine doesn’t notice. At least doesn’t budge, too busy deprettifying her dolls. So the rest of recess is spent between two portables, attempting to color stubble upon her chin like a real samurai, sharpening her stick with a smooth stone.