It will hurt, just a little. I just lost. So I insult, say mean words, hurt the winner, till I win, and she loses, loses her balance, and falls with a yelp. So I reach down, give her a hand, become the hero, again her best friend. But still in pain, she pushes me down, and play becomes fight, friends become villains, till it’s no longer fun. And the shrieks of laughter turn into those of terror. With dice we played. It was so fun. Till the dice turned blank, and the game turned sour. I lost. You won. But now we both lose. Go home with shredded clothes, anger piercing our sore screaming throats. We’ll play no more. We pinky swear. But I know we will. And we’ll fight again.
Published on: May 10, 2011
Tasneem Dairywala 