Morning Scrimmage

Time-out's over! I broke out of the shadow beneath the wicker chair. That fuzzy yellow tennis ball was still planted between the legs, blocking my primary lane. Perfect scrimmage partner! I tucked my brown football tight against my ribs. Dug my black cleats into the porch planks. Left arm extended straight out, palm open. One, two, hike! I threw my shoulder right into the felt curve and shoved with everything I had. The heavy giant rolled half an inch, squeaking across the rough wood. Lane wide open! I planted my boots in the clear gap and checked the yard.