Ponytail
Hello to all, hope everyone is having a great summer! Here's a flash fiction piece I just wrote actually based on a real occurrence. Enjoy!
Ponytail
by BJ Neblett
© 2013
Her ponytail bounced and shimmered in the late afternoon summer sun, a soft, honey golden flag of independence. Catching his attention, he paused to watch. She honed in on her target with crafted accuracy and sprinted away from him. She ran with grace and ease; purpose and determination. An involuntary smile pulled at the corners of his lips. Suddenly, as if a bird returning to its nest, a softball descended from the crystalline sky and landed securely within the plush leather folds of her well worn glove. In one natural, fluid motion she retrieved the bright yellow orb and tossed it to the waiting second baseman.
His smile grew.
“That’s no ordinary girl.”
That was obvious. But something told him the words now playing over in his mind spoke of more than just a talented ball player. “Nice catch,” he called, as she returned to her position in left field. “And very nice throw!”
She looked up, matching his smile. “Thanks.”
It had been years since he’d felt his body melt this way; his brain slowly turning to hot mush. He’d almost forgotten the sweet, tell tale sensations. “No, this is no ordinary girl,” he said softly. He moved towards her. “Hi, I haven’t seen you here before, have I?”
Her hand slipped into his like a fitted glove, warm and comfortable. “No, this is my first time, I just moved here.”
A glint of sunlight twinkled in her sparkling hazel eyes, bringing with it memories bitter and sweet.
“What’s the matter with you, girls can’t play baseball!”
“Ah… he’s gone all goofy for her!”
“Yeah… all mushy inside!”
The taunts from the other boys continued. He didn’t hear them. She had kept her promise to come watch him play. Only she had showed up wearing shorts and a T shirt, and with an old worn glove. Her ponytail poked out from under the Phillies cap he’d given her at Christmas. It bounced and shimmered in the late afternoon summer sun, a soft, honey golden flag of independence. Darting out onto the field, she’d stolen a deep pop fly from the surprised left fielder. Watching from the pitcher’s mound, an involuntary smile pulled at the corners of his lips.
“C’mon, get her off the field!”
“Yeah, we got a game to play!”
In one natural, fluid motion she retrieved the leather clad baseball from her glove and tossed it effortlessly to the waiting second baseman.
“Nice catch,” he called. “And very nice throw.”
She looked up, matching his smile, a twinkle in her sparkling hazel eyes. “Thanks.”
It had taken some fast and fancy talking to convince his friends, but they spent the summer together playing baseball on the same team. And then she was gone.
“Hey, are we gonna play some softball or not?”
The comment shook him from his momentary reverie. “Yeah… let’s chose up sides.”
They spent the summer together playing softball on the same team. It was now late August and the season would soon be over. From the pitcher’s mound he watched with love and affection as she gracefully trotted out to left field. An involuntary smile pulled at the corners of his mouth.
“That’s no ordinary girl,” he said softly.
Her ponytail bounced and shimmered in the late afternoon summer sun, a soft, honey golden flag of independence.
Ponytail
by BJ Neblett
© 2013
Her ponytail bounced and shimmered in the late afternoon summer sun, a soft, honey golden flag of independence. Catching his attention, he paused to watch. She honed in on her target with crafted accuracy and sprinted away from him. She ran with grace and ease; purpose and determination. An involuntary smile pulled at the corners of his lips. Suddenly, as if a bird returning to its nest, a softball descended from the crystalline sky and landed securely within the plush leather folds of her well worn glove. In one natural, fluid motion she retrieved the bright yellow orb and tossed it to the waiting second baseman.
His smile grew.
“That’s no ordinary girl.”
That was obvious. But something told him the words now playing over in his mind spoke of more than just a talented ball player. “Nice catch,” he called, as she returned to her position in left field. “And very nice throw!”
She looked up, matching his smile. “Thanks.”
It had been years since he’d felt his body melt this way; his brain slowly turning to hot mush. He’d almost forgotten the sweet, tell tale sensations. “No, this is no ordinary girl,” he said softly. He moved towards her. “Hi, I haven’t seen you here before, have I?”
Her hand slipped into his like a fitted glove, warm and comfortable. “No, this is my first time, I just moved here.”
A glint of sunlight twinkled in her sparkling hazel eyes, bringing with it memories bitter and sweet.
“What’s the matter with you, girls can’t play baseball!”
“Ah… he’s gone all goofy for her!”
“Yeah… all mushy inside!”
The taunts from the other boys continued. He didn’t hear them. She had kept her promise to come watch him play. Only she had showed up wearing shorts and a T shirt, and with an old worn glove. Her ponytail poked out from under the Phillies cap he’d given her at Christmas. It bounced and shimmered in the late afternoon summer sun, a soft, honey golden flag of independence. Darting out onto the field, she’d stolen a deep pop fly from the surprised left fielder. Watching from the pitcher’s mound, an involuntary smile pulled at the corners of his lips.
“C’mon, get her off the field!”
“Yeah, we got a game to play!”
In one natural, fluid motion she retrieved the leather clad baseball from her glove and tossed it effortlessly to the waiting second baseman.
“Nice catch,” he called. “And very nice throw.”
She looked up, matching his smile, a twinkle in her sparkling hazel eyes. “Thanks.”
It had taken some fast and fancy talking to convince his friends, but they spent the summer together playing baseball on the same team. And then she was gone.
“Hey, are we gonna play some softball or not?”
The comment shook him from his momentary reverie. “Yeah… let’s chose up sides.”
They spent the summer together playing softball on the same team. It was now late August and the season would soon be over. From the pitcher’s mound he watched with love and affection as she gracefully trotted out to left field. An involuntary smile pulled at the corners of his mouth.
“That’s no ordinary girl,” he said softly.
Her ponytail bounced and shimmered in the late afternoon summer sun, a soft, honey golden flag of independence.
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