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The Map of Small Disasters
adventure◐ Teen6 contributors · 3 paragraphs deep
I could check one of the places myself. Find out what grandma knew. I grabbed my car keys.
The playground was exactly how I remembered it. The old swing set, the same oak tree. Everything frozen. But there, carved into the tree trunk: a date. The day I broke my arm. My heart started racing.
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I sat on the swing I used to use. And I remembered: the day I broke my arm, grandma picked me up. She asked so many questions. 'Where exactly did you fall? What do you remember?' I thought she was just being grandma. What if she was—
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Amara Okafor
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