“Can’t believe we’re doin’ this.”
“No one’s round.”
“If we get busted-“
“You’ll get grounded. I’ll get sent back earlier. Coz we both got no future say when ya folks won’t listen.”
“True dat on the parental-lifestyle-planning. Sucks they talk to us like pre-schoolers,” placing his skateboard on the cement. “Sure you wanna do this?”
Fumbling fingers secured helmet and padding. Palm gripped the metal rail, testing the board’s shifting wheel roll. “Yeah, totally dude.”
“Sounds wrong you sayin’ that.”
“I’ll roll down this tunnel then we sneak back home, ‘kay?”
“That’s the plan. Got three hours for sunrise. Hopefully, no-one’ll spot us.”
“No rush… Only got this moment. Today.” His nervous laugh echoed. Shoe souls rested on the flat board. Knees bent. Hips jiggled. Licked his lips and toe pushed.
A moving shadow stretched across graffiti walls. Awkward arms spread wide, as if surfing an elastic tightrope. “Whooohoooo…..”
Front wheels hit a crack in the concrete. Skateboard skidded. Weight toppled. Both board and rider rolled across gritty grime.
“GRANDPA,” running to the fallen body.
Lying on his back he smiled wide at his grandson. “Reckon Santa’ll get me a skateboard to cruise hallways, stirrin’ ‘em nursing home nurses?”