When I was a little boy I had a crush on this little girl. She liked to swing. And, I liked to swing because she liked to swing. When my class would go out to recess, I would always jump on a swing three swings away from hers. Close but not too close. Close enough to look at how pretty she was but not so close that she’d know I liked her. As the school year’s recesses passed in a blur, I slowly built up the courage to swing two swings away from her and then one swing away from her until one day, I decided it was time to swing next to her. And so on this particular day, I walked up to her while she was swinging and I asked her if anyone was swinging there, pointing to an empty swing that was obviously unoccupied… she said no and I jumped in the plastic saddle, held the chains and began building momentum. We didn’t really talk. We just swung there. And, from time to time, we smiled at each other some too. And I’m not really sure whatever happened to her. But, what I do know is that all these years later I’m still that little boy at recess scared to death of pretty girls.
By Cole Schafer.
P.S. One day these one-minute writings will be a big book called “One Minute, Please.” Can I let you know when that day comes? You can say yes, here.