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

Clothesline

“Something landed in our yard,” I announced.

Harold unlocked the backdoor, glanced around.

“Softball,” he hollered. “Next door thugs peering over our fence.Undies on their clothesline again.”

“I’m cooking. How about returning the ball?”

“Nope. They know where it is,” Harold grumbled holding a newspaper.

When the doorbell rang, he answered. Two boys asked permission toretrieve their ball.

“Nice kids. Better than the previous neighbors. Remember, they hungsheets on that silly clothesline to avoid talking with us.”

I looked out the kitchen window.

Our neighbor had taken down the underwear. Sheets strung the length ofthe clothesline.

From Guest Contributor Krystyna Fedosejevs

Krystyna writes poetry, fiction, and creative nonfiction.