I remember playing pool.
Not swimming, pool.
There was a pool room in the Rec Center and my dad taught me how to play pool there.
We spent hours and hours taking turns at the table as I learned to play 8-ball.
Smooth green felt, a dust of chalk, and the click of the the balls knocking into each other takes me back to a peaceful time.
I swatted at flies as we played, because flies were everywhere, and the room smelled of dilapidated carpet.
At some point, I remember winning an 8-ball tournament.
I don’t have easy access to a pool table anymore, and rarely get to play, but pool remains one of my favorite ways to visit with old friends and relax.
Goodness, I need to get a pool table.