Abandoned, forgotten, once loved basketball net thingy causes me to pause and photograph it on my walk this morning. Someone purchase it and either had it shipped to the house, or carted it home on the top of a station wagon, went to the hardware store to buy concrete, dug a very deep hole, placed it with the help of some extra hands, and secured it while the concrete cured with eyes watching and anticipating. Then, the children played, bouncing their ball, shooting their ball, rescuing their ball from the woods or the street, pestering their father to play with them after supper. Then, the children grew up and moved away. The basketball net thingy stood silent and rusted.
The house went on the market and sold.
The house waits.
The basketball net thingy spoke to me this morning on my walk.
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