Varicose Veins
by R. Murdoch
A bocce game late in the month of May.
The lopsided score that was evening out with each throw of the green balls at the small brown pill.
A boy in a neighboring yard throwing around a baseball.
The bocce player walking to the other side of the small suburban yard in preparation for the next round.
A freak throw from the young baseball player.
The improbable collision of the boy’s baseball and the bocce player’s calf.
A yelp, a stumble, and finally, silence.
The endless, frantic apologies.
A painful red mark, and a trip to the emergency room.
The red mark, ruptured varicose veins.
A warm Friday evening in late May.
by R. Murdoch
A bocce game late in the month of May.
The lopsided score that was evening out with each throw of the green balls at the small brown pill.
A boy in a neighboring yard throwing around a baseball.
The bocce player walking to the other side of the small suburban yard in preparation for the next round.
A freak throw from the young baseball player.
The improbable collision of the boy’s baseball and the bocce player’s calf.
A yelp, a stumble, and finally, silence.
The endless, frantic apologies.
A painful red mark, and a trip to the emergency room.
The red mark, ruptured varicose veins.
A warm Friday evening in late May.
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