Shooter in the Ring

A half-inch steel ball bearing was resting cold in my palm, salvaged from an old skate axle. The living room was quiet after the trek back from the bodega, and the floorboards offered an honest, level run. I laid a loop of rough jute twine into a neat ring against the dark oak. Set three cloudy glass marbles dead center in a tight cluster. Dropped onto both knees, tucked the heavy steel sphere behind the knuckle of my stone thumb, and sighted the angle. One firm flick. The steel hit the lead glass marble with a crisp, bell-like snap, punching it clean over the twine boundary while the bearing held the center. Still got an eye for true lines.