Hitting tennis balls against the wall of the National Tea Company grocery, glaring at drivers who want to park on our court. Hitting till the arm refuses to rise up and hit again. Waiting for the call to home. Set the table — okay — I can do that. Do we need anything from the store. I’ll be glad to go. You said I’ve learned how to tell the good tomatoes from the bad ones. Yes, you do know your tomatoes – so go, the long way – crossing the prairie — sunset — I never knew about sunsets before.
After dinner the lights go on at the parking lot so we can hit some more. We can put up our arms and signal the drivers to the lot on the other side until it fills up. The bugs are a problem — they, too, are drawn by the light. Try not to step on them — they crunch.
