playtime...

The sun was setting against an orange crepe paper, spilling its last streamers of light through candyfloss clouds. It would soon be night, a time for the boogeyman, for all things scary to pop out of closets and scare them. Scare us.

The two of them were still out, playing in the mound of sand near their house. Innocence is like a toffee, leaving people bitter when it is gone. They came here everyday, building castles of childhood, mounds out of unanswered wishes, building them all with the sands of infancy. A fistful here, an occasional mouthful there. Their mothers would soon be calling and it would be the end of 'playing God' for the day. Other children of their age were already into other resources of entertainment, but the sands always beckoned them everyday like some unanswered prayer, gnawing at the subconscious. The last birds were almost nested till the coming day.A few more moments and there would be nothing to worry about. They would be safe and secure, comfortable in their own homes.Just a few final minutes. Just...

He always hoped that there would be something buried in the sands, like the pirate stories that his dad sometimes narrated; a lost coin, a broken wheel from someones toy, anything. He had been playing here since the start of his memory notebooks, but he was yet to be lucky. He stuck his hand into the grains and looked at the sky, almost unknowingly praying to the setting sun. Just then, his hand closed around something oval and smooth and a smile creased upon his lips, the first star appearing on the horizon.

His playmate was on the other side, creating a new galaxy, lost in his own personal cosmos. The crepe paper had almost been pulled down now, to be replaced by something a lot darker, like ink. The first star was also starting to receive company, a loner no more. The cosmos creator was wearing a cap, a gift from the uncle who looked like a cartoon duck, the one he saw while having his morning milk and sermons from his mother. He was oblivious to the discovery of his companion, something that would change the immediate future. His cosmos was made, and a smile similar to his companion was beginning to take shape on his lips.

The creator did not see anyone coming from behind; he really wasn't God now, was he? The rock was held tightly between his little fingers, as he sneaked up behind the little creator of universes. He still hadn't been noticed. A cat saw him, its eyes shining like broken glass, and chose to ignore the event. He now stood behind his companion, his hand raised, resembling a bowler stuck in action. With a final "Here it comes", he let the rock come down on the cap, perched on the creator's head.

The smile froze in its tracks. His vision turned hazy for a second and he turned to look at what had hit his head. He had not expected this now. Red, the color of his favourite pajamas, dripped out of his cap, staining his yellow tee. He just stared and blinked, blinked and stared. His companion stood there, rock still held between fingers, watching as his companion got covered in crimson. He gave his tee one final look and took off his cap.His head felt sticky and gooey. He slowly got up, trying to get rid of the stray grains of sand from his pants. He looked up and said,

"Mom's not gonna be happy about the tee and the ketchup!"

His conspirator gave him an "it-was-your-idea" look. They slowly got out of the mess and trotted towards their homes. Ink spill totally covered the sky, stars peeking through the tatters.Playtime was over.

For the day.

:)