The Parking Lot

All right! All the chores are done. "Mom, I'm going to the parking lot," I yell as I fling through the door,jump down the steps, and purposely slide on the oil in the carport. I grab my skateboard and I am almost through the front yard before the screen door slams behind me. I'm on my way to where I can day dream.
It's a rough ride down Calls Altar. The street is rocky with large cracks and I feel as if my feet are going to sleep. I have to push off the ground repeatedly to get any speed and I want so much to get there. The dips made by dump trucks are smoother and if seen in time to gain enough speed it can make for a possible thrilling jump or if entered the wrong way can cause a crucial wipe-out.
Beside the road are Oleander bushes. The bright red berries always look inviting, by Mom says they are poisonous. The birds seem to like them. I grab a few, shake them around in my hand like a group of jacks and throw them across the street.