Cowering

Elementary schoolers flock from the classrooms and hallways, out the double doors and onto the playground. A particularly bitter playground aide follows me down the stairs. As I kick open the door, she squawks her disapproval at me. I run faster and find a hiding spot. I squat under the playground equipment, awaiting my discovery, my punishment. When the whistles are blown at the end of recess, I get in line. She ignores me like nothing happened. Apparently she isn’t looking to punish me; she has forgotten. Ashamed at my irrational fear, I vow to never again cower from authority.