The kids played in the open field beyond my fence line. I could hear them yelling and laughing as they used a stick as a bat and small rocks as balls.
Every once in a while I’d catch the sound of stone cracking against wood and the kids whooping it up. I wanted to go watch, but I had leaves to rake.
As they carried on with shouts of joy, it took me back to my childhood, playing baseball in field below our subdivision. Then a well-hit pebble struck me in the head, knocking me out.
I began to dream.
The Old Blog in the Desert 
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