The Baseball

By Marvin Ferguson

It's a good thing I'm not afraid of speed or height. At times I travel very fast

and other times very slow. Sometimes I go high into the air before coming

down. I'm use to getting knocked around just like people. My face is round. I

don't have any eyes, but sometimes people wish I did. Nor do I have a nose

or mouth. Not even a hairline to put some character on my face. All I have

are stitches arranged like an appendix scar. Folks, I'm different. I don't have

any feelings. You never see me smile or cry. I am a baseball.

One day I found myself comfortably inside the web of a baseball glove

before I felt a pair of hands moving on my face, flipping me around until
some fingers rested on my stitches. Then the glove moved, but I couldn't tell
where I was going.

The hand on my face didn't move either until I suddenly felt a cool breeze.
As I was lifted out of that cozy spot inside a glove I traveled over a man's
shoulder toward his back so fast it took me by surprise. Then, as he extended
his arm to its maximum position, suddenly I felt a jerk that brought me back
over that same shoulder leaving his fingers, traveling on my own at ninety
miles per hour.

As I sailed through the air, the breeze increased whipping in my face. All
around me everything looked blurred. In front of me, all I could see was a
faint patch of dark brown that looked like the glove I just left. But I never
got there. For out of nowhere came a piece of wood that sent me into a
different direction, rolling over a green carpet, parting the thick grass like a
boat speeding through the Everglades.

The joys of being a novelist are the challenge to personify things in the real
world. From my book titled "The Boys On The Gold Coast" I had the
opportunity to share life from the view of a baseball. I wish you all some
happy reading.

Marvin


Photo from iStockphoto.com