pink chalk

"Look, it's lava!" Emerson exclaims in alarm, pointing with her small hand to the narrow stream ahead, flowing with the bubbling amber liquid, that seems to shimmer more radiantly in the darkness of the cave. Emerson takes a deep breath, her small shoulders rising slightly, as she allows her gaze to focus in on the barrier ahead of her. There's a slight pause, and then she begins to run, her blond pigtails bouncing behind her. Emerson leaps over the lava, the the boiling magma barely lapping up to engulf her bear ankles. Safely on the other side she beams, triumphant. "You can do it!" She calls back to me in encouragement. Suddenly, a prius pulls into view, and the darkness from the cave vanishes instantly to be replace with sunlight, that radiates off of the cars shiny blue paint, making it sparkle. A women in the drivers seat, rolls down her window, pulling up beside me. "I'm here with Finn," She says pleasantly, "your dad told me to look for the house with the pink line across the driveway..." She laughs as if this kind of joke, and looks down. "There it is," she nods smiling. "We like to pretend it's lava," I say, looking at the thin, singular, pink, line that stretches from Emerson's house to the neighbors.