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It was a pop fly that sealed my fate.

Shannon had hit the ball for the first time that chilly fall afternoon and I watched the ball go up and soar through the air

“I got it.” I cried as I raced to catch it. I focused on the small, white ball; it flew over my head fast as I caught a glimpse of my little sister. She was doing the Moonwalk while making her way to third.

With all my might oozing to my legs, I chased the ball with pure gusto. I was determined to retrieve it and throw it back in time to get Shannon out at home plate.

But the ball had other plans; plans I didn’t agree with.

“No.” I groaned, watching the ball pass through a thick batch of withered rose bushes and through the open window of Madame Black’s home.

I was certain that I would never see that ball again.

Boy, was I wrong.

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