So many people. Overstimulation.
Sit in the sun. In the quiet.
Safe, yet unable to say, “yes.”
“That would not be my preference. For tomorrow there will be a new, unknown crowd.”
A young nanny walks down the back street with two youngsters.
A girl on bike, smiling, with hair flying and shining in the early evening’s setting sun.
The boy trips. His face contorts into an almost sob.
The nanny did not catch him, but catches his expression.
Her face contorts alongside his; but, she begins to giggle, ridiculously.
He follows her lead.
A cry averted into a laugh of “I cannot believe that just happened.”