Chalk by Robby Van Arsdale

Chalk

by Robby Van Arsdale

He was trying to be friends. Really he was. He hadn’t screwed everything up beyond repair. He knew that. How else could she have smiled at him so genuinely? Unless she was a psychopath. He hoped she wasn’t a psychopath. All he wanted to be was friends. But not with a psychopath.

He took his chalk set and wrote on her sidewalk. Big, round letters of neon, yellow, and red.

Vikki

sometimes

it is good

to hold on

to happiness

and

it is better

to allow the

rain

to wash

away

your hurt

Take my chalk

use it please

make sure

you write

the good things

under awnings

and underneath

roofs

but

the bad things

in the open

on sidewalks

and streets

He left his chalk, then, in a square he drew for it right next to her door. Then he knocked on the door and ran away. She saw his back as he ran, so she left to throw the dishes and hope for them to break. She would have loved his message, if she had known. But it rained.

Vikki

sometimes

it is good

to hold on

to happiness

and it is better

to allow the

rain

to smudge

smudge

smudge blotch

blotch smudge chalk

streak smudge smudge

smudge streak

smudge smudge

streak streak blotch

smudge streak

smudge smudge

streak

smudge

smudge smudge streak

streak blotch smudge

smudge smudge

smudge streak

She didn’t know what he’d said. She wanted to be angry, but found herself sad. Her hot, bold tears flew to obliterate what was left.