I mimicked his deep, smoky laugh.
I had broken parts of my body before, but this was the first time I worried I had damaged my mind.
The sun was already warming the kitchen when I entered in my long socks, carrying my glove, and saw my mother at the table smoking a cigarette.I stood there, my lungs heaving in and out, my eyes locked on the earth in front.There was Lipton tea and a bottle of Sanka.And she turned.He loses his job.I carried a baseball glove because he loved baseball, and I took every hardball he threw, even the ones that stung my hands so badly I thought I would scream.She had been there.One second I had been at the refrigerator, dragging through the motions, the next second my heart was racing so fast I thought no amount of oxygen could sustain.How pathetic was that?I was a daddy's boy, and I remained a daddy's boy right up to a hot, cloudless Saturday morning in the spring of my fifth grade year.so I was a daddy's boy.You don't get uni sans bold font visits.
I lay on the field for an indeterminate amount of time, then I rose to my feet and I got myself walking.
It went down my back.