From the day
Perspective: The Teenager · Tactile
The heavy, cold steel of my new Erector Set bites into my palms as I tinker with the girders, a far cry from the stiff, scratchy wool of the trousers Mother forces me to wear in this humidity. I gave a quick snapshot of the finished tower to the girl next door, though my pockets are feeling light after the bready smell of the bakery lured me into spending my last $0.06 on a loaf. I can hear the tinny melody of "Peg o' My Heart" drifting from the parlor, but I’d rather be out in the dirt. It’s a lousy afternoon to be stuck inside when the world feels like it’s being bolted together one metal plate at a time.