He returned to footpaths and fields he remembered from his childhood. Once upon a time, they’d played here, where adults never roamed. In those days, they’d paid no heed to the signs, or the warnings, or the fenced-off areas. As children, they’d believed themselves the owners of all of this. And perhaps they hadn’t been wrong.
© Barry Lee Thompson and ‘Stories, by Barry Lee Thompson’, 2014
5 thoughts on “Playground”
I really like this, very evocative.
Thanks for reading.
I love this too Barry. It reminds me of when we were children in England and our parents found us on a walk in the countryside on the roof of an electricity station – with no railings around. We couldn’t understand their concern as we had simply climbed up to look out over all the land that was ‘ours’.
My nephew tells me he once climbed an electricity pylon, despite those warning ads in the 70s where a boy gets his feet blown off. I wonder if I should give it a go…
Thanks for commenting on the post, Helen.
I like this too, Barry. Why wouldn’t it be ours?