An author's battle against procrastination.
Nolan ran. The road was dark. The pavement was broken. His tank top was drenched in sweat and he was behind in his pace. HIs heart beat in his chest. The led lamp on his waist was slowly starting to dim. Nolan could barely see his feet on the pavement as he powered through his race.
The sound of crickets echoed through the night sky like a stadium cheering and jeering for their lead player. Nolan had a second to waste. He was the only human in sight. HIs breath shot out between his lips.
“Listen to me,” Coach Horner said. “This is the third round. Even I didn’t think you’d make it this far. But here you are.”
“You mean here we are,” Lily said with a wink.
The crowd broke wild as they stamped their feet in the bleachers. Their deafening applause filled every drum in the auditorium. The sound wave echoed out into the still night air. Seller High celebrated every year, after homecoming, with a talent show. But this year was different. Claude, the precocious and obnoxious junior, decided to demonstrate his abilities in shooting baskets.
He went on with his act for over fifteen minutes, before people began to boo.
Then came Lily.
Okay. No pressure. Baseball. I’ve seen it a handful of times. I know what I’m doing. Kinda.
I mean I’ve been the last kid picked all school year and now Bobby Kani decided to give me a chance. I wasn’t picked first, second or third. I was somewhere in the middle.
This isn’t intramurals either. This is gym class. Baseball usually doesn’t have timer, but our class has less than ten minutes until Mr. Derrian, our gym teacher, calls time and we head off to lunch.
Continue reading “Diamond Cut”
Jace Rockland 