The gentle sound of chalk scraping across pavement brings us to life. The talented artists draws me and my pod of dolphins, happily leaping across the sidewalk.
It's good to be back. Apparently, we're one of the more popular drawings he does. He certainly must have some more unique pieces than us, but passersby sure seem to love us based on the number of coins they drop into his hat.
We see a lot during our day. Earlier in the morning, we see curious faces peak over the artist's shoulder as we come to life. They often don't want to stand too close, perhaps afraid that they'll disturb his process. But after he's cleared away to go and draw life into others, we get a lot more faces taking us in.
Some smile and the joy of us mid-jump across the ground. Others snap a quick picture on their phones and carry on about their day (they do always manage to get our good side, because that's all the artist drew after all). And some don't seem to notice us, or perhaps have become too used to our presence and walk across us. But we leave a fine dusty mark on their feet, just so they can remember us later.
The smilers are the best. It's a wonderful feeling for a concrete dolphin to know you've brought some joy into someone's day. Sure, some of them were already having a great day, but you know some weren't.
We may not get to splash around in the ocean like real dolphins, but we also don't have to fear sharks or a poorly placed fishing net or pollution beyond the occasional bit of litter. We get to take in the marvelous city and see many faces as people bustle about. We get to hear the fine (and sometimes not so fine, have you heard the guy who does karaoke?) buskers who flood the streets with their music or the clack of their shoes as they dance. Really, there's no better place to be.
There is, sadly, a few downsides to being a concrete dolphin. One is obviously the constant threat of rain. The typical mist won't drive us away, but when it rains, our faces get washed away, becoming no more than a grainy smear on the pavement. We then have to wait again for the artist and he has to wait until the ground is dry enough to bring us to life once more.
But that is the nature of our ephemeral existence. If the rain doesn't take us, eventually enough feet of the passersby do. We will smudge and then fade away into the pavement with only the little bits of us clinging to shoes before we're shaken off throughout the city.
It's not so bad though. All it will take for us to drink in another day is for the artist to come back. And so far, he always has. We get to take in the faces of the people who enjoy us and know that we've gotten him a little bit of coin. It's a pretty good spot in life.
As the day goes on, we get to see some repeat faces. Usually we get second smiles, but we also manage to get some first ones. Now that people have taken care of their errands they feel freer to dally and look around.
As the day draws to a close, the rain clouds start to gather. Looks like it's our queue to go, until the artist draws again.
(Prompt by Kimisha Cassidy)
It's good to be back. Apparently, we're one of the more popular drawings he does. He certainly must have some more unique pieces than us, but passersby sure seem to love us based on the number of coins they drop into his hat.
We see a lot during our day. Earlier in the morning, we see curious faces peak over the artist's shoulder as we come to life. They often don't want to stand too close, perhaps afraid that they'll disturb his process. But after he's cleared away to go and draw life into others, we get a lot more faces taking us in.
Some smile and the joy of us mid-jump across the ground. Others snap a quick picture on their phones and carry on about their day (they do always manage to get our good side, because that's all the artist drew after all). And some don't seem to notice us, or perhaps have become too used to our presence and walk across us. But we leave a fine dusty mark on their feet, just so they can remember us later.
The smilers are the best. It's a wonderful feeling for a concrete dolphin to know you've brought some joy into someone's day. Sure, some of them were already having a great day, but you know some weren't.
We may not get to splash around in the ocean like real dolphins, but we also don't have to fear sharks or a poorly placed fishing net or pollution beyond the occasional bit of litter. We get to take in the marvelous city and see many faces as people bustle about. We get to hear the fine (and sometimes not so fine, have you heard the guy who does karaoke?) buskers who flood the streets with their music or the clack of their shoes as they dance. Really, there's no better place to be.
There is, sadly, a few downsides to being a concrete dolphin. One is obviously the constant threat of rain. The typical mist won't drive us away, but when it rains, our faces get washed away, becoming no more than a grainy smear on the pavement. We then have to wait again for the artist and he has to wait until the ground is dry enough to bring us to life once more.
But that is the nature of our ephemeral existence. If the rain doesn't take us, eventually enough feet of the passersby do. We will smudge and then fade away into the pavement with only the little bits of us clinging to shoes before we're shaken off throughout the city.
It's not so bad though. All it will take for us to drink in another day is for the artist to come back. And so far, he always has. We get to take in the faces of the people who enjoy us and know that we've gotten him a little bit of coin. It's a pretty good spot in life.
As the day goes on, we get to see some repeat faces. Usually we get second smiles, but we also manage to get some first ones. Now that people have taken care of their errands they feel freer to dally and look around.
As the day draws to a close, the rain clouds start to gather. Looks like it's our queue to go, until the artist draws again.
(Prompt by Kimisha Cassidy)
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