The 6 year old boy walked with rapid, purposeful strides alongside the swimming pool. He turned his head over his shoulder and delivered rapidfire monologue to someone out of sight. "I'll get it fast and bring it back..."
The 70something gentleman approached in the opposite direction. His stride was measured, steady and
cautious. He saw the boy approach. The boy walked, talked, and continued to gaze away from his path.
The gentleman's eyes measured the distance. His mind calculated time til impact and how soon he should speak up.
His lips rose in a playful grin. He so clearly enjoyed the collage: a present reminder of past youth, the creative tension of the wait, his balancing "Shall I warn him now?" and "Shall I let us bump?"
The gentleman let his breath out slowly. The boy shouted, "...if I find it. I'll bring it back if I find it. If I can't find it..."
Gentleman lifted his hands slightly, just a foot's distance before he would gingerly fend off the boy.
The braking power only a 6 year old could demonstrate. Head spun. Bare feet clasped the pavement. The boy moved lithely to his right, around the man. Never missed a step. "...I won't bring it back and you'll just have to...."
The gentle man slowly shook his head, seemed to say, "Good boy. Life offers plenty of bigger obstacles."
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