Football


That was it. He has not moving anymore

The horizons streched away into indefinateness
Clouds smudged the pale sky as a golden orb
Burned
Gentle rays into the field
And into Him

No. He was definately still against the hard earth

There was a motion on the horizon
It came towards him, unstoppable, improbable and
Graceful
He surmised its collision
And was right

Now he was moving

The forgotten pain of impact
Was nothing at all compared to
Flight
Where was the had earth now?
He thought

Not only moving, he was literally flying

Air, gentle air, eddies and streams rushing past
A white and blackened body that
Floated
Without effort, without worry
Without control

What goes up…