A SELFISH BOY we were supposed to take turns. this boy across the street swore he would bring the toast and strawberry jam next time. each time. until mom said no more! his idea of sharing was a little lopsided. we played with his imaginary friends as we walked the plank (that was the top of a stone wall). we scampered around his front yard because he wasn't allowed to cross the street. He was older by far. One rainy day, he invited me to play inside his toy room (which was a whole basement full of toys).  My eyes popped at the sight. I reached for a flute-whistle but he was more interested in an oral inventory. When he wasn't looking, I hid that toy under my white sweater,  yearning to ply it to my lips, and made an excuse to scram. I felt so dirty, resentment burrowed in like octopus ink. I was discovered three houses away never having the pleasure of play.