To the prompt: Natural selection
That I was last to be picked never surprised me really. I was odd I
suppose, quiet, defensive, too serious, prone to upset and pout when I
didn’t live up to my own expectations, and that was most every day. I’d
called all the guys my friends, but they were just acquaintances, our
ties only geographic. In fact I’d not have bothered to show up at Linden
Hills park at all save the fact that my mother would shoo me out doors
all day and I had nowhere else to go where I might pretend that I was
part of a whole and not simply a square peg in a world of round holes.
Peter Linkie was the natural second to last selection, and I, right
behind him, in spite of the fact that I could hit the ball hard enough
to set it on fire.