“Jason, honey, we’ve got go! It’s getting late!” Tracey’s voice was tinged with more than a touch of desperation. Jason’s toddler face was set in fierce stubborn lines that parents recognize only too well. He clung on to the purple plastic horns of the small dinosaur he was riding, and rocked it back and forth. Ignoring his Mommy, he yelled “Go! Go Dino!” and rocked harder.

Tracey reached out and grabbed his arm. The air in the playground, already darkening, seemed to stiffen and tense, a chill evening breeze whipped up the leaves and branches. Tracey cried out “Come on! It’s going to be too late- please!”

Jason let go of a plastic horn, turned around and slapped his Mommy across her mouth. His hands were way too small and soft to inflict the slightest amount of pain, it was more like he dragged his hand across her mouth than actually hit her- yet Tracey cried out as if his touch had wounded her. The leaves made chattering noises.

“Jason, no! We do not do that! Get off Dino right now!” She tried to drag him off the plastic rocking dinosaur, even though she knew she risked a full tantrum and that would only push him closer to the top of the list. The Playground Parenting Council had already denied their appeal and disqualified Jason’s mental health reports, ruling he was a perfectly healthy, if disobedient child- a prime candidate.

Nancy swung silently behind them. Tracey couldn’t bear to turn around to look at her. Only last week, she had been running round the playground, playing happily with Jason and other little children. Then – something had happened between her and the Drummond girl- they had squabbled over the swing or something. Tracey wasn’t exactly sure what had happened, but it had involved biting, and there had been blood.

Violence is never the answer. The Council retribution had been swift and merciless. Now Nancy’s lifeless body hung between two swings from the frame, swaying back and forth creakily, sometimes in sync, and other times out of step with the two swings.

Decay had already set in, and birds had pecked out her eyes and most of her face. A dire warning indeed for all children who misbehaved and their parents.

The Council had been set up by a coalition of willing neighbourhood parents, sick to death of misbehaving, violent children. They were hung from the playground frames, and left for as long as possible, since apparently there was no other way to make children behave nicely to each other and to parents in the playground.

Tracey made a last appeal to Jason, who was now rocking as furiously as if his life depended on it. “Please Jason! Do you want to stay here forever? Like Nancy? And the others?”

By some miracle, Jason let go of the plastic horns, and lifted his tiny arms to Tracey. “Mommy!” he gurgled. Holding him tight, Tracey turned and fled the dark playground.