Two sides of a cage
WHO: Manny and Elizaveta
WHEN: Sunday Afternoon
WHERE: At a certain batting cage
WHAT: Chatting happens. Dreams, commercials, et cetera.
A swing and a miss.
A swing and a hit.
A swing and a hit.
Once that rhythm had been established, it was no longer Emmanuel in a batting cage, it was Manny blowing each one out of the park on a Wednesday evening in New York, breathing beneath the hazy lights and the crowds of people chanting his name or his number over and over, replaying his home-run hit over and over and over, different and more beautiful each time.
Until he missed.
"Carajo," he cursed, sighing and throwing down his helmet, trying to get focused again.
Focused, until he saw his boss walking down the street.
"Oye, Señora Elizaveta!" he called with a wave, neglecting to switch the blasted machine off. An action he'd regret in a few moments, when one of the balls came shooting at him, grazing the side of his head.
Clasping his hand to his head and turning to turn the machine off, he cursed again. Smooth, Manny, smooth. Make the entire club think you're an idiot.
Not they did.
[[if this bites, I will edit it. if not, yay!]]
WHEN: Sunday Afternoon
WHERE: At a certain batting cage
WHAT: Chatting happens. Dreams, commercials, et cetera.
A swing and a miss.
A swing and a hit.
A swing and a hit.
Once that rhythm had been established, it was no longer Emmanuel in a batting cage, it was Manny blowing each one out of the park on a Wednesday evening in New York, breathing beneath the hazy lights and the crowds of people chanting his name or his number over and over, replaying his home-run hit over and over and over, different and more beautiful each time.
Until he missed.
"Carajo," he cursed, sighing and throwing down his helmet, trying to get focused again.
Focused, until he saw his boss walking down the street.
"Oye, Señora Elizaveta!" he called with a wave, neglecting to switch the blasted machine off. An action he'd regret in a few moments, when one of the balls came shooting at him, grazing the side of his head.
Clasping his hand to his head and turning to turn the machine off, he cursed again. Smooth, Manny, smooth. Make the entire club think you're an idiot.
Not they did.
[[if this bites, I will edit it. if not, yay!]]