Free Permanent Adhesives by Melissa T. Liban

to a minimum generally.
    “That is awesome, oh my God. Did you make that? Like write it? Is that you singing?”
    He nodded.
    “All this you did just since last night?”
    He nodded again.
    “How? I mean your song is great. You just whipped that up with all these other ideas?” I was quite impressed.
    “Are you weirded out? Sometimes my brain goes crazy.” He pushed his notebook across the table at me.
    I turned it around so I wouldn’t be reading it upside down. I flipped past the chaotic looking page and found what appeared to be a full blown organized action plan: outlined, bulleted, numbered, etc., etc..
    “You’re amazing.”
    “No, just really sorry.”
    I sighed and smiled at him. He shrugged and returned my smile.
    We both drank more coffee and after my fill of greasy goodness, we walked out into the crisp, chilly city air.
    I took in a deep breath. “I love this weather.”
    “As do I,” Elias said. “You know what’s the best thing to do during this kind of cold fall weather?”
    “What?” I asked.
    “Going to the park.”
    “Really?”
    “Yep, it’s on the way back.”
    “All right then.”
    We walked side-by-side down the sidewalk with all the buses and cars whooshing by. The streetlights were aglow—making it seem like it wasn’t really dark out. A brisk wind gently slapped me in the face. We passed a couple of assorted storefronts and went under a viaduct where it seemed all light was lost, and all sound echoed. We arrived at the park, and Elias ran across the grass and the spot where the Austrian beef cart usually was with its red and yellow umbrella, selling hot dogs. I picked up a light jog and followed Elias down a blacktopped walking path and past a small hill with fall blooms and a brick park house. We were almost to the swings and such when Elias veered off the path, across a little patch of grass to a cemented sidewalk area just off the side of the park house.
    “Colorado,” he shouted, throwing his hands up in the air.
    I was a bit confused for a second, and then I noticed that on the cement was a large map of the United States, no colors or words, just the outlines of the states. I ran over landing on a southern state. My brain paused for a moment, and then I figured it out. “Louisiana!”
    We jumped from state to state blurting out where we stood; an elderly couple with walking shoes and ankle weights, walked by, eyeballing us suspiciously.
    “Kansas,” I said.
    “Errrt, wrong, try again.”
    I jumped back to my previous state and made another attempt. “Nebraska?”
    “A question or an answer?”
    “Answer?”
    “You’re right, and you’re also it.”
    Elias turned on his heels and ran across the park.
    “Hey,” I shouted after him.
    After my ill-fated attempt to catch him, we landed in the playground. I sat in the swing next to Elias; his hair was everywhere and hanging in his face. We swung back and forth, each time pumping our legs to go a little further. I loved swinging in the park, especially when there was no one around. Besides the old couple that eyeballed us, we were the only ones there. Swinging was like being a little kid and for a slight moment in time you had no worries, just the open air. I leaned back and looked at the darkened night sky with the cold breeze rushing upon my face. There was a tree in my sight-line, and I tried to touch it with my toes, knowing full well that the branches were out of reach, but maybe that one time they weren’t. I pumped my legs harder propelling myself and the swing further into the air. I blew at my hair that kept climbing all over my face; it flew off into the sky, dancing around in the wind. I looked over at Elias, and he stared off into the distance at some focal point I could not see.
    My swing started jumping, so I had to slow down a bit. I slowed down enough and dragged the tips of my shoes in the wood chips below my swing, leaving long deep grooves underneath me. I stopped myself completely and leaned my