part 321.2 of a novel: a whiffle ball

I was playing wiffle ball in the back parking lot one day and I found a syringe near the stairs of the people next door. I did not knock on the door and say, “Hello, is this your syringe.” I ignored the needle and continued playing wiffle ball. The game continued until the ball was hit over the fence. We could not get the ball. It fell into a pit of grills.

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