The girl wore a yellow dress. It had a frilly trim. The dress bloomed as she swiveled up and down the playground swing. Buoyant in the air, she waved her sand dusted feet.

Standing on the head of the ceramic tiled dragon, the boy watched the girl. He had on an old t-shirt and muddied shorts. In his hand, a tree branch sword. Healed cuts and bruises marked his legs.

Children crawled within the ceramic tiled dragon’s rainbow steel gullet. They slid down the dragon’s concrete tongue. Playing games. Making up rules.

Under the watchful eyes of maids and grandparents, the clouds frowned deep dark creases. A growl of thunder prompted the collection of children. Only the boy and the girl remained.

Up and up, the girl soared on the swing. At its highest, she released her grip and flew. She landed at playground’s edge. Where hard concrete met softer sand. She remained crouched. Motionless. The boy dismounted the ceramic tiled dragon. He ran to the girl.

Blood had splattered on concrete. Seeped into sand. She looked silently at the blood stains on her dress.

“You okay?” the boy asked.

The girl looked up. She nodded.

The boy pressed a tissue against the wound on the girl’s knee. Blood soaked red patterns into white. The first drops of rainfall moistened the sand between their toes.