Hitting Softballs By the Field House

“yeah man, call out ‘aye laddie’ to claim the ball.” we laughed, and he hit a grounder, followed by a pop fly, followed by another grounder, all thrown back to the proximity of the pitcher. “what’s it gonna be like tomorrow?” I asked. “In the 70s...I haven't hit since last spring.” Some clouds loomed overhead and my hairs stood on end. He hit a short one and paused, “What are your dinner plans? I got a few pizzas in the freezer.” “Wow, that’ll be great weather for the frisbee tournament then.” The ball tuckered out of my glove. Dammnit. He cranked out another one, and the guy out left managed to haul it in, “Aye laddie!” The sun peaked out a bit, and I saw where the clouds would end for a time. “Aye laddie!” That one, I caught. Reds and oranges over the trees, and none of us believed in sun sets.