The corner market was down the hill.
My school was down the hill.
The polyg house was down the hill.
I remember the cool mornings of autumn.
I would walk out the front door and down the steps.
My breath rises like smoke from a locomotive.
I would turn to the west and look down the hill,
I took off like a sprinter hearing the starter pistol.
It was a little over a block from my house to the polyg house.
I ran faster and faster.
Halfway down the hill, the large polyg house would come into view and I would start jumping.
Going faster and farther with each jump the cold air would sand skin from my cheeks.
The bottom of the hill approached closer with each jump.
For a moment I was freed from the earth and I would fly.
I reached the bottom of the hill, my cheeks burning but my flesh was intact.
I failed to run out of my skin, nothing was revealed.
Rosy cheeks were the only evidence of the effort spent.
I stopped at the bottom of the hill everything I ran from was still there with me.