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.
Posted by HL