(Edited 8/26/22 )
Back and forth, back and forth.
The swing moves hypnotically as strong arms push a happy child sitting atop the rubber seat.
They shriek, "Higher! Higher! Keep pushing!" Their parent just shakes their head in fond amusement and tries their best to keep up with the little one's demand.
The child relishes the sensation of swinging, the wind whipping around their face, the way their hair moves as they come down, and one split second. The one where you stay suspended in the air just for a moment, gravity leaving you alone to take pleasure in the illusion of floating.
That child is on top of their world at that moment.
The swing squeaks and due to their curiosity the child looks down. Suddenly, they are no longer on top of their world, but tumbling to the bottom.
All their confidence disappears and they yell to their parent to stop pushing. They get off, glad to be on solid ground again and run off to play with another piece of equipment in the park, their parent trailing close behind.
As time goes by the child becomes older and they eventually learn how to swing on their own. They can face the once daunting heights of the swing set and go as high as they want.
They still love pretending to fly, to believe as though they were high enough to touch the very clouds that hung above them.
They still can't go too high though. Otherwise their nerves will get to them and they'll stop swinging, letting the leftover momentum carry them for a while.
Sometimes, if they're feeling especially brave they'll jump off the swing whilst still suspended in the air, adrenaline fueling the action.
They stop after a faulty landing gets them a trip to the ER and an ankle brace.
Even more time passes and the child is no longer a child, but a distinguished member of society. They have a job and their own house. And one day they might have a partner to spend the rest of their life with. And perhaps, just maybe, they might have a child of their own.
A child who they will push on a swing set. A child who will whine to go higher, high enough to reach the stars as they themselves once did.
Just maybe.
(Word count: 391)
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Inanimate As You Are
شِعرLook around you. There are objects everywhere, correct? Well, I'm about to add a double meaning to some of those objects. Welcome to "Inanimate As You Are," a book where I try to make random objects somehow deep and poetic. You're welcome to come al...
