Along the Lines of Causerie

The children come back out, shelved with raincoats like flowers in vases. Their boots shout splish splash and the puddles are making faces so they smash them in. Tip toeing the border of picture frames and clocks, someone warns them of slipping because stained glass knees are scraping and the clumsy kids are crying while the last in line finds himself growing up in a life that's just a snapshot.