swings

a little girl with chapped lips sit on the swings, ignored by her parents. a bandaid falls from one knobby knee, revealing a scab earned during a game of freeze tag. she picks at it. her name is samantha. last night, between lavender sheets made sweaty with dread about this coming play day, she dreamt of trolls. about a sprawling black marble castle filled with shelves of books and a troll army at her command to lay waste to the humans. it was a good dream. here, in the day time, she pumps her feet encased in ruffle socks and mary janes, picks her scab, and ignores the others girls on the playground. pines for her trolls army.

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