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Skinny Guy

Starter for @sailorrmood w/ Adora 

A decade before Adora took residence in the off-campus student housing, someone installed a basketball hoop in the parking lot. An old, dinky, rusted metal goal post. The paint had peeled off the backboard long before her time, leaving nothing but the dull grey impression of ancient markings. Most nights the guys who lived in the apartments played impromptu games or HORSE to wind-down. Usually involving copious amounts of alcohol. Sometimes, if Adora finished her homework and she wasn’t wiped from practice, she joined them. And cleaned the floor with their sorry butts. However, while everyone else crammed for finals and wrote last minute essays, Adora did that months ago. Except for a guy smoking –against the rules– on a second story balcony, she was alone to practice her free-throws this evening. 

The basketball struck pavement, rebounded to her waiting hand, and ricocheted to terra firma beneath the sway of gravity. Adora captured the ball, brought it to her chest, and threw for the hoop. A ‘thonk’ off the back board and a satisfying ‘shwip’ through the net, scored her a point. The ball bounced-off the pavement at an obtuse angle and made a break for it. The student council insisted the parking lot was level, but either all their balls had an intractable urge to commit suicide in traffic or there was a downwards slant leading to the road. Proof to the later conclusion as the ball rolled-out to the road. Adora watched as her basketball bravely traversed the –luckily quiet street– to the opposite side-walk. Then skitter along in the gutter. She waited for a car to pass, looked both ways, and jogged across.

“Hey!” Adora called, stepping-up on the opposite curb. The noble basketball, so close to freedom, wavered by the heels of an oncoming pedestrian. Adora gestured at it and then lifted her hand, “Can you pass it?”

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