Aimless little hobo pinched into a new cardboard box. Warm and dry and without cause. Then uncontrollably excited by a passing ball. Little bitch has been chasin this ball for years. It is perfect. That is what she was told. It certainly looks perfect. Not even a scratch after all these years. Blue, a beautiful blue, not faded or tainted. Just rolling for years around in her head and heart. She almost caught it once. But she was afraid it might burst and let it go.
Luckily her attention span it short and she can be pulled away from her obsession for long periods, so long that it weakens the wanting. Stupid ball, who needs it. In her mind she buries it, deep in the ground. She can not have it but at least she doesn't have to see it. But then every so often, here it comes...how did it get out? And there it goes. Fuckin ball. Maybe she was destined to chase it. It may be that it was once hers in another life. Happiness can not be found in a ball can it? I mean in one specific ball! A ball is a ball. She has other ones, why are they not good enough. What is it about that one?
Curious thing the heart and head, blind determination and a blue ball. For now she sleeps with one eye open, wondering if it will pass again. Eventually she will tire and fall asleep and think she only dreamt it. And maybe she did. Maybe it is all it ever was, a dream...and maybe not even hers.
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