The Chalk Team Is Missing
Brandon Kruse

The chalk team is missing. They want people to know. They’ve lain out on the ground and traced their little bodies like murder victims. Sarah. Jenny. Evan. Jack. Judging by the size of their bodies, Jenny must be the oldest. Their scribbles are still up all over the neighborhood. They’ve written down what they were trying to draw. Spider. Monkey. Monster. Mom. The last thing they wrote was, “The chalk team is missing.”

They’ve made things easy for us to follow.

They wrote F-U-C-K up and down the sidewalk next to a hopscotch game. Little bastards. Someone will have to clean that up, eventually. Next to a doll and a spider it says, “Charlotte is Gay.”

The early June heat muffles a tiny scream in me. What other tiny screams have been silenced?

I lie on the sidewalk and trace my outline. Jenny is second biggest now.

Under feet and weather, the forms will run together and disappear. The chalk team is missing. They told us. They know where they are.

Brandon Kruse is a self-adduced cultural omnivore. When he is not writing and painting, he is travelling the world from Chicago to India, Hong Kong, Korea, Mexico, and Cuba, all while taking time out to visit his mother in Florida.