Rough boy

No one could have taken the risk for a walk out that afternoon. The heat was stifling, and a hot east wind burned the skins as it blew. The streets were deserted. There was an empty silence which was occasionally broken by motor-cars.
He was in his upper room too uneasy to take a cat nap. His mother would not allow him to get out in“this killing heat”. “Children are supposed to give their bones a rest in such a heat” would say his mother. But his bones were aching for freedom outside those stifling walls: his bones were craving for the sand that would embrace his naked feet.
After moments of hesitation, he made up his mind. He jumped out of the window into the warm street. At the stadium, he joined his friends (whose mothers would not object or ask their children for a rest). They were awaiting him.
“You’re late mate.”
“Let’s start then friends” He answered them with a glorious and beaming smile. He played well that afternoon. He was happy and free in spite of his left foot. That damned foot hurt him when he jumped out of the window.
When he went back home, extremely satisfied, nor his mother nor her big stick could have robbed him the pleasure his younger brother had missed.

Abdelmoughit