The brake sound of the yellow bus stopping and shutter doors swinging open on a hot september afternoon in Georgia. That was freedom. meant all school association over for day. hours play til’ supper. stopped at top steep hill entrance my neighborhood. A seemingly endless two rows townhouses. With confronting front lawns backyards facing ancers thick woods. Like something out utopian horror movie story compact suburban structures were identical. Front useless chemical infested unnaturally green grass. All cut perfectly. only differentiating factors house numbers identical black mailboxes ranging from 100 to eternity alternating lm. Navy blue then white navy again. houses hill. Slowly declining into mass produced first home owner hell. I ran down minute drove away. steepness strained knees as feet stuck ground sized backpack repeatedly bounced against back rhythmically with every stride. never looked number door distance between stop muscle memory. Sprinted mat had one foot before threw book bag floor left. mwalked next neighbors house. Door 144. This 15-second endeavor. rang bell there stood most generic dad you’d ever see. an average build privacy invading eyes collared shirt. He smiled me. said hello like day walked went straight Ivy’s room. We would stay while but eventually we leave Walk Our parents knew about it. They have forbid In our predictable world where after one this place exciting. wizards goblins familiars you know what happen. Between each clearing rooms. One magic library kitchen garden. took schools made them spell books. sticks wands. mud it magic. School books more past trees. Mud more. Broken branches picket fence. Past line trees way yonder