Growing Up There was a small playset in my old home. Everyday after school we would run toward it. The air was crisp and cool. It was old and chipped, but it always felt so new. Many hours on it, with parents watching from the porch. At night we would all escape to that very porch in fear of what was lurking below. As the days got shorter, and weeks got longer, years went slower and that playset sat alone. My mother tried to revive the joy in all of the children by repainting it. But soon after, we left the world of sunshine, play, rainy, stay. Every day was filled with screens. Nothing more, nothing less. Now I wish that we played on that small playset more, before our childhood was sucked away from us. 12 by Estelina Zhou ’31
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