Spitball Army

All the ball fields in Avondale Park are occupied with games and onlookers; their cars line the surrounding streets. There’s a light pollen haze in the air. White blooming dogwood trees invade one’s line of sight in every direction. There goes a bike. Smoke is snaking from Saw’s barbecue joint. Inside the nearby library, Miss Ellen is projecting Much Ado About Nothing on the event room wall as a kid in the front row has his eyes on his handheld; there are only four people in attendance, yet they have eaten all the popcorn the popper could make. It’s free, after all, as is this beautiful day.