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Echo Fall 2016
8
Leaf
Red Sox vs. The Yankees
Marie Van den Broecke
Andrew Bianchet
A leaf gently
twirls with the breeze plucked from its mother by whispers from the sky freshly fallen, finally free as the rays of sunlight make the world beyond branches sparkle. Bugs with new shades of blue, laughter like never before. Ballet with butterflies to the
beat of chirping baby birds. The magic of innocence’s discovery making time tick slow to a distant morning drizzle life’s best adventure to rest
“Red sox are gonna win tonight! I’m calling it!” Russell said excitedly, almost spitting out the handful of fries he put in his mouth. Russell was all around a large and intimidating man. That’s why most of the time he got this excited Elliot just went with it. You think so?” Elliot asked, ripping apart his straw paper. “Yes, I think so! I’m always right about these kinds of things.” “You’re not always right,” Elliot said meekly, now feeling bad about the bits of straw paper he spread around the table. “Really? Because I’m pretty sure if we left when I said to leave, we wouldn’t be here an hour early, eating crappy stadium food.” He was now picking at the scraps left on his plate. Russell was an obtrusive man with exclusively dark features, despite the grey hairs sprouting up in
his untidy hair and mustache. You could see his mustache twitch with annoyance when, like right now, people ignored him. “So I was thinking,” Russell said, taking a deep breath, “maybe this would be a good time for us to catch up.” Elliot looked up immediately. The idea of “catching up” was terrifying for him, being as socially awk-
with skeletons of
ward as he was. He just liked having someone who occasionally invited him to sports games, not to actual-
old friends
ly talk about things, especially with someone who seemed so dense like Russell. The only times they talked
in the black dirt.
were in the car or dinner parties, and usually Russell would take over the conversation and talk about
sports or how hot his wife was. The rest of the time was usually spent yelling at a TV screen. Elliot sat dumbfounded at how to respond to the abnormal idea, and it made Russell shift uncomfortably in his seat. “My wife, um, Katie, she just thought it would be healthy and stuff… to actually talk and… be friends like they are.” That’s how they met anyway. A friendship between their two wives was the only way they ended up speaking to one another. They were only at the game because Katie had won a ticket on the radio and
