Downhill Strike

Staying cooped up indoors was driving me crazy, so I squeezed under the front screen door and jogged out into the morning sun. Down in the driveway gutter, I fished a solid chrome ball bearing out of the dry leaves—heavy, mirror-slick, and perfectly balanced. That sloped concrete curb had the makings of a championship bowling alley. I lined up three dry acorn caps right at the base of the seam, stepped back four paces, and dropped into a low skater crouch to eye the camber. One hard, smooth flick. Whir-r-r! The steel ball hugged the asphalt curve, picked up speed like a downhill racer, and smashed dead center through the targets with a sharp, satisfying clatter. Clean strike on the first roll!