There's a boy who lives in the apartments at the corner.
Often, when I'm coming home from work, or heading out for my run (or sometimes, like tonight, on the return from my run, in the dark hours of the evening), he's outside.
With his skateboard. and the most improvised of obstacles and fake pipes.
He's getting better. He's out there almost every evening. A boy, his skateboard.
And when he lands a new trick, he's got a gorgeous grin.
Tonight, he wiped out just as I was approaching, on the cooldown from a really good run. Picked himself up, grabbed his deck, and said "I thought I was going to get it this time".
Next time, kiddo.
I don't know what it is about kids and skateboards -- probably childhood nostalgia as much as anything -- but this kid makes me smile every damn time I see him.
A boy. A skateboard. A shooting star. It was a good night for a run.