BY KATHRYN BELANGER

The wooden bench underneath my legs is rough and splintered but still warm with the remaining heat from the sun, once high in the sky. The woody smell of tanbark fills the air as three kids chase each other behind me, playing tag. My eyes go in and out of focus as I squint at the line of ants marching across one by one, carrying a sliver of strawberry left behind from some picnic. I wonder if there’s anything else left over from their lunch; those strawberries would be a great afternoon snack. The squeals of laughter echo through the air and dance with the rustling of leaves from the shady trees overhead. People run past, casually following the curve of the path and listening to music. Kids of all ages explore the playground, going on adventures as pirates and princesses, while onlooking parents chat about dinner plans and the setting sun that will drive everyone home for the night. 

For a brief moment, I am distracted from my people-watching by the bark of a large dog. The golden retriever runs up to me eagerly, and I giggle while petting her as she coats my face with kisses and thick, wet slobber. She has no collar, so I decide to call her Stella, after my aunt who has the same color hair. The thick fur of the dog’s coat is soft and comforting compared to this bench I’ve been sitting on all day. She pants happily at my touch, so I continue to pet her as the other people slowly begin to leave for the day, their voices disappearing behind closed car doors and the roar of engines coming to life. I don’t want to go home yet, but I wave goodbye to them anyway, knowing they must be as hungry as I am. The air grows crisper as the light slowly begins to dip below the tree line. Soon it’s just me and Stella watching as the last cars begin to drive away. Then, with one last lick of my face, Stella pulls away from my grasp and disappears into the night. I sit there, staring after her, feeling the coldness of the empty park surrounding me. The stillness and silence of everything overwhelm my senses with a scary feeling I just can’t shake. I’m still here, waiting. It doesn’t feel like night yet, but everyone else is gone. 

As the sun turns the sky over the park first orange and then deep purple, my eyes begin to droop. I rub them sleepily. Tall shadows form around the playground equipment, casting monstrous shapes on the ground as nearby lamps flicker on, illuminating the lonely darkness. My legs ache as I shake the numbness out from sitting for so long. My stomach rumbles in hunger as I daydream of cheese, grapes, and chicken, or even any strawberries those ants might have left behind. It feels like forever since breakfast. I pull my feet to my chest and close my fall jacket more tightly, zipping it up to my chin. My arms wrap around my knees as I shiver, a single tear rolling down my cheek and then another. I look up, gazing at the stars as they come into view, and wonder to myself, When is Mommy coming back? She told me not to leave this spot…