Evening Pennant Review

I came back inside through the screen door as the porch light flicked on, bringing a dry golden oak leaf in from the fence corner. The field was quiet for the night. I sat down flat on the woven rug beside my brass coupler trophy and laid the leaf flat across my lap. With both paws, I carefully smoothed out the curled stem until it aligned beside the cardboard ticket stub and the wooden ruler roster. Everything on the club board is neatly checked off and accounted for.