A Roll Along the Line

I pushed through the lobby flap and walked along the quiet morning pavement into the park. The gate to the tennis court was unlatched, opening onto a wide green asphalt expanse painted with crisp white borders. Near the fence lay a forgotten yellow tennis ball. I paused two strides away to measure its round shape before stepping forward. Lowering my head, I gave the fuzzy felt a firm, unhurried push with my muzzle. The ball rolled smoothly down the baseline. I broke into a steady trot beside it, matching its roll stride for stride across the green court until it tapped the net post and rested in the sun.