Stay off the grass

You've seen signs like these a thousand times before and you always did what they said: "Stay off the grass." This time though, something made you defy the the red and black placard. I think it was the plastic yellow band that said "do not cross" in black which was redundant and wound around the entire courtyard park. Anyway, you did it. There's nothing to be done now unless you invent a time machine or find one. So, in your only act of rebellion, you went under the plastic yellow strip. You stepped gingerly on the fresh grass with the twisted feeling of satisfaction which comes from breaking a rule. You start doing jumping jacks, pushups and cartwheels. Soon, you tire of these calistenics. Maybe, it's time to get off the grass and back on the sidewalk, you think. Yeah, your a little nervous, too nervous for such an innucuous infraction. Slowly, you shuffle your feet along the cement walkway, looking to see if anyone saw you. "Hmm that's funny" you say softly. There isn't a soul in site. Hadn't you just seen an old lady walking her dog? Weren't there some kids over by the steps riding their skateboards on the steps in front of the sign forbidding bikes and skateboards? Where the heck did every one go? You walk out of the arcade and cross the emty street. The fountain looks inviting. Sit down on the bench. Watch the water. Still, there are no people, animals or kids. Your belly flutters, your head spins and your fingers tingle. Hey, put your head down below your heart. Yeah, good, that's better. You stand up and stretch. Are you hungry? Go find some food. Might as well eat what ever you find. Its just you and the bugs now. Oh, and by the way, stay off the goddamn grass, OK?