Losers

It was the last inning in an adult softball playoff game. We were behind by two runs. I had gotten a walk, which filled the bases. The next batter could tie or win the game. The manager replaced two of us with pinch runners, which caused our second and third outs for batting out of order. Many people thought that I was a good runner. Pinch runners were supposed to be used for the injured. I had objected to being subbed out, and this time it ensured our loss. I didn’t say it out loud, but I quit softball then.

From Guest Contributor Doug Hawley

What It Felt Like To Die

I plummet to the earth--the emerald field I stood upon moments before.

The one who injured me was merely a streak of shadows which approached, just as quickly as he vanished.

Below my navel is a tiny puncture. What was once unblemished flesh is now a faucet, bathing soil with my body's vital broth.

I realize my aorta is severed.

Clouds bob and flicker, bearing the faces of my family. I panic, fervidly trying to grasp them--their expressions are indifferent, unresponsive.

Instantly, tranquility engulfs me. Darkness eclipses my vision. I surrender, relishing the divine slumber that beckons me.

From Guest Contributor L. Michelle Corp