sydney whispers

She approaches with stealth, quietly as he reads an ancient epic on the recliner.  The sun has made its way to the horizon, and he would like nothing more than to rest, reliving glorious feats of gods and men.  She whispers.  “Papa, we should go outside and play baseball.” How can he resist.

“Guess what, Sydney.  I ordered you a present.  It’s going to come in the mail in a few days.  What do you think it might be?"

He sees that she knows instantly, but she pauses anyhow, pretending to think about.

“Maybe some new wiffleballs?"

She’s right.

They play ball as the last day of summer turns to night.  And she hits many homeruns.