This is part seven of this nine part series. Please comment, question, critique, and criticize. With your help, I hope to work this into a successful story.
Sally and her little brother played catch in their backyard. The limitless dreams of childhood held her, made her; crushed her when they were crushed. Her lab ran back and forth, following the ball, jumping to catch it, steal it, and run to the back of the yard.
“Don’t throw it so hard,” Sally demanded.
“Don’t be such a girl,” her brother commanded.
“Play nice or go to your rooms,” Mom screamed.
Mom had a headache, again. The dog hair wasn’t helping. The children’s bickering wasn’t helping.
“Sorry,” they shouted in unison.
“You will be,” Mom resounded.
Ball and gloves fell to the ground: in Mom’s way, not put away. Mom poured a drink. Sally and her brother disappeared around the corner on their bikes. Mom turned on Judge Judy and fell asleep in her chair.
To Be Continued…