Short Story

"I remember being a lot more engaged at his age," he thought. "I loved baseball from the first day Dad bought me a whiffle ball, plastic bat, and red glove. How can I get Jake to love ball?"

As the sun kissed the horizon, the first of my clansman rode before the royal box; backs arrow-straight, heads held high and tilted to the right, crimson and sapphire sashes interwoven with the horses’ bridles,

“A course I do. Miss Minnie, here’s my secret. When the hoss inside my head starts wandering down that trail, I yank up on the reins and send him on a better path.