The Right Fielder
An iStory
by Tom LakinThe ball is a speck in the sky. Up, up it soars, like dust blown against a ceiling of lovely blue. Far below, the right fielder circles and stares, mitt raised to the sky. It seems the ball will never fall.
The ball is a speck in the sky. Up, up it soars, like dust blown against a ceiling of lovely blue. Far below, the right fielder circles and stares, mitt raised to the sky. It seems the ball will never fall.
