It was a blue handball. Bounced it against our hardwood floor.
After a few times, I could hardly stand it.
I was wasting time. I had a lot to do.
Three times. Four times.
I’m reeling. But I’m noticing it. Why am I doing this right now?
Get back to work, slacker.
Five times. Six.
How absurd is this? I’m beating myself up right now. Whaaat?!
Seven times. Eight times. Nine.
This is wonderful. A transcendental experience, in fact. The ability to control space and time to manipulate the ball from my hand, off the ground, and back again. Amazing.
I’m in the flow now. Each bounce is a separate entity, but all meshed together as a singular action. Like life…
Eleven times. Twelve.
Okay, I’m quitting. But because I want to. Not out of shame.
Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen.
I can’t. Stop. This is great.
I have to pee now. But I’m definitely going to do this again.