A
huge summer afternoon with no sign of rain. . . . Elm trees in the
farmyard bend and creak in the wind. The leaves are dry and
gray. In the driveway a boy shoots a basketball at a goal above
the garage door. Wind makes shooting difficult and time after
time he chases the loose ball. He shoots, rebounds, turns,
shoots. . . on into the afternoon. In the silence between
the gusts of wind the only sounds are the thump of the ball on the
ground and the rattle of the bare steel rim of the goal. The gate
bangs in the wind, the dog in the yard yawns, stretches and goes back
to sleep. A film of dust covers the water in the trough.
Great clouds of dust rise from open fields that stretch a thousand
miles beyond the horizon.
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