ball paddled back and
forth by the both of
them. Small, so I
fit in the palm of their

hand with their fingers
enclosing around me, light
and round, hitting the
table. Dizzy by the

sensation of not having
a true destination. Falling to
the ground. Jumping hurdles,
and flying through the air

like a jet over the net. Ricocheting
as a bullet out of a gun. I'm home
spun. A pearl without a strand. Now
where will I land?