Written as part of a challenge called Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers, details are available at https://flashfictionforaspiringwriters.wordpress.com/2016/08/08/fffaw-challenge-week-of-august-9-2016/
Every Wednesday evening at 6,she take her place. Third row on the second set of risers. All the way to the right. She’ll lean foward. Rocking a bit as they scrimmage.
She’s as quiet as a church mouse. Heavy sudden whispers escape “Go Devon. Come on Devon”
She’s almost divine. My eyes are locked into her. The long black hair rides her back. Her pastel colors make pale skin glow.
I hope to love her even more after we meet.