4/24/98 my mom told me to go out and play one day
i listened like a good little girl and closed the door
i sat on the steps and looked around
i listened to the monotonous drone of the passing cars
i hummed along to its nearly noticeable melody
the mailman comes with greeting cards
he makes donald duck noises at me and i laugh
as a child, i try to spark up a conversation
as a child, i fail, and am left sitting back on my steps
daniel comes by and asks how i am
i shrug off the question as if it were an insult
i turn back to the street and fix my sundress
the droning of the cars zooming by relaxes me
