Z-boy Wannabe.

Once he stepped foot into the park, all the other kids stopped what they were doing and watched him. He zipped past them on his board and executed a series of difficult tricks with relative ease. They were jealous and intimidated. They knew that anything they tried would be shameful and terrible and that he would just laugh at them. He owned that concrete and they worshiped him. He was king to a gaggle of teenagers. This was his sanctuary; outside of the cement jungle, he was an outcast. If he ever decided to grow up he’d be lost. Who would admire him for his skills on a piece of wood with wheels?