Fresh fruit, fried chicken, sliced tomatoes, poundcake, fermented cheese, sandwiches, and deviled eggs. These little fist-sized white boats filled with yellow spicy goodness. Just looking at me.
These are the items, some of the foods, laid out on the tables in our picnic compound for the annual family picnic.
Oh, and there is my new ball, a shiny pink Spalding. And I can’t wait to introduce it to my friends and my cousins.
While waiting for the rest of the food to be laid out, grabbing an egg and bouncing my ball. Before swimming, after swimming, grabbing an egg. Tossing my ball while watching the softball game from the sideline, eating an egg, and playing with my ball.
Sitting in the tram, listening to my ball hit the metal steps. Contemplating that egg when we get off, hearing my father say, “Don’t bounce that ball.”
Contemplating an egg when we get off. Hearing my grandmother say, “The baby’s falling out the tram going after that ball!” and seeing the tram pull away.
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