Into the moat of shoes that surrounds the shaking palace, I kick off my mine, and climb the steep drawbridge. Through the inflated door I gaze and drop down to the floor that is not made of marble, but of billowed rubber.
My crouched legs spring into stretched action. I notice others in the room; some launch, some lob, all beam with hundred watt smiles. I feel the foundation shift between my sock covered toes as I become the rise and fall.
As I catch breath, maneuver, roll, and jump, I see a motionless world out of the cellophane windows. Larger bodies wait outside, their noses pressed against the plastic panes.
A thick thud radiates my skull as it hits another.
I rub my sore spot and greet the next wave of attacks. Plucked from midair, my fifteen minutes are up as this carbonated world goes flat. I return deflated to the back of the line.
