“I think I seen that woman before.” She said from the swing sets from behind her perfect blonde curls. I was on my daily pilgrimage to a coffee shop in my neighborhood, passing by a recess yard full of five-year olds and sandboxes and beach balls.
It happened I guess. Right in that moment, just as she said it.
I grew up.
Woman. She said woman, with a sparkle in her blue eyes that matched her blue shoes.
Not lady. Not girl. Not child.
Wow. What a heavy word.
I watched as she launched out from a high arc and landed on her hands and knees in the mulch. She got up, brushed herself off and ran after something or someone. I hope she enjoys her childhood. It goes by fast.