This is part of a story I hope to finish someday

Nic wrote his name in the ground, stared at it, watched the lines slither and warp. It moved as fluid as Nic’s own hands, and body. He tried to understand the way the lines moved by letting his own hips shake like a belly-dancer. Not working, Nic thought, but this dance feels fun. Funny.
“This chalk is fucking fantastic!” Matt said. “Great idea Cambray, such a great idea.”
Four hours in, how long had they been drawing on the sidewalks?
“I see my name, it’s so weird. Look at my name. Is that me?” Nic had been struggling to comprehend those letters for, it seemed, seven minutes now. What did they mean, really? “It’s like a mirror of my physicality. But I don’t—it’s not—it’s a prison of misunderstanding. Misrepresentation.”
“I can’t see it!” Cambray said. “It just looks like lines. But, wow, the color is amazing. It jumps out, and I can feel it! Vibrancy. Aura. Color is so beautiful. I hope I don’t ever go colorblind.”
“A mirror of my body, the vessel that carries my heart and soul!” Nic said. They burst out in laughter, and Matt threw himself to the grass, rolling about. And Nic saw that the grass was paint, and that Matt was coming alive in it, neon green on his clothes, his hair.
Matt drew his name on the sidewalk. “Shit! It’s so foreign isn’t it? It’s like…it’s not me. Am I Matt? Matt. Matt. Matthew. Matt. Matthew.” He touched his fingers to the ground, tracing the letters.
“Matthew? Matthew? It’s not you, Matt. Matt is not you. You are you. Matt is not you.” Cambray said. Nic agreed vigorously. No, Matt was not green. Matt was Matt.
They moved down the sidewalk, Cambray trailed a line of blue chalk. “If we get lost, we can follow this line back from whence we came.”
Onwards they travelled, and they passed a bum peeing on the sidewalk. The urine flared up and subsided, darkening the side of the wall and the ground. Acidic steam rose as it melted the pavement. The man turned and smiled a toothy grin. “Did that bum just piss on you Matt?” Nic said.
“What! Shit! Are my jeans pissed on?”
“Is it damp? Feel your leg. Touch it,” Cambray said, trying not to laugh.
“Oh shit! I don’t know! What the hell! I don’t know!”
They came across a bench on the sidewalk. It sat beside a little pool of water surrounded by swaying, blooming flowers. They spoke, they whispered things to Nic that he could not understand. A sign stapled to a tree shouted, “THIS IS A PUBLIC PARK. YOU ARE UNDER CAMERA SURVEILLANCE.”
They sat on the bench, felt the cars rumble past, saw the dogs walking their owners.
“Thanks for convincing me. I’m so happy we did this together,” Nic said.
“No, no Nic. Thank you. I thank you and Cambray,” Matt said.
“No, I thank the Lord our Savior and Father...and Lord our Jesus for this time we’ve each spent together,” Cambray said.
They put their arms around each other and pushed their heads together, laughing and grinning.
“We’re golden children,” Matt said.
They lifted their hands to the sky. The sun had set its course, down the horizon. It flung its finale up across the trundling clouds. And they were brought to life in a reverberation of fiery light. They were wrought in pink cotton, transformed into elephants grazing the heavens.
“I feel like we are the greatest underdog sports team ever,” Nic said.