A game with a tennis ball, a soccer ball and a rugby ball. You had to get each ball over the line. Their coach was leading them to victory. No one was leading us, but when I tried to take a stand they did not explain the rules. It was raining, I kicked the soccer ball over their goal line. But it had to be the tennis ball first.
So I kicked the tennis ball over the line and they started laughing.
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I punched one of the boys in the chest. He fell backwards, face down, head in a puddle. The rain poured down on him.
Should I pull him up? His long curly hair was bedraggled. I wanted to wait more. To punish him. He was wearing a coarse dark blue knit shirt. Motionless.
I turned him over. Unconscious. I pushed his chest with two fingers just below the sternum. Instantly he spurted clear water from his mouth. His eyes stayed shut but unprompted he spurted more water, coughed, then more water, again, and again.
Image by Mircea Ploscar
