Misc. Writings

Camy K will not be outdone. They refuse to be beaten in anything. She spreads her legs, crouching low and letting her body sway slightly to keep loose. Just three more. They rear backs and throw the ball with all their might, it blurs by and smashes into one of the three remaining glass bottles set in a line on a crumbling brick wall. She grins. Now on to the next. This time a smaller lighter ball, harder to control than the previous baseball. She closes one eye to focus on the second bottle and steadies her breath. She twists the smaller ball held between her fingertips and pulls back again before letting it fly.