This piece was born of a collision: my little Hyundai Elantra in my elementary school parking lot.
Through my car's windows I see the basketball court where I skinned my knee so often and the walls of the school, white and pockmarked. I see the jungle gym where I lounged with girls I have nearly forgotten and the portable where I learned to count off music notes blue-jello-blue-jello-blue and is it just me or has that tree grown taller?
I wonder what other little girl is sitting in her bedroom counting down the days to saying goodbye to the school that built her. I wonder if she has already seen those white pockmarked walls for the last time and if it broke her. I wonder if, when she is grown, she will take her high school car back to this same parking lot and sit in the front seat listening to her favorite pop music and cry a little for the girl she no longer is.