Five Year Old Basketball

The images repeat. I am stuck, but none of the news is new. It had been hours, the 10x12 TV screen is shrinking the impact. Karl scans my closet for a much needed distraction.

"“How about basketball?"” He says holding up the recently purchased ball.

The orange pleases me. "Basketball? Now?"

Karl says "“Sure, Yeah. We need to get out of here for a while."

I bounce the ball while walking toward the park. It hits my foot and leaps toward the street. Karl snags it and dribbles a few times. He knows how to dribble.

Usually the courts at Walter Piece Park are full of teenage men. Today, they are empty. We dribble, zig-zag, Karl even makes a few jump shots. I am trying to anticipate, but I feel like I am just examining his shoes. The winded crazy laughs and thwop-bwing from the pavement exhilarate me. I zoom around him but my floppy speed sails me off the court, the ball bouncing off the backboard into a tree.

We hear powerful thumping from behind the trees. Massive black beasts cross the blue above us, chomping the air. Helicopters always remind me of Vietnam War movies. That embarrasses me. Today, they provide a sound for complete confusion, fear and dream like trance. The TV images flip behind my eyes. It isn'’t a movie.