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I lifted my glove up, ready to catch a pickoff throw if the pitcher decided to try and catch the runner. Between the top of my glove and the bill of m... hat, I tried to focus as the dark shadow began winding up. I began chattering, ‘Hey batter, batter, batter, batter, hey batter, batter, batter, batter…’ as he leaned toward the plate and flung his fastball like a comet. ‘Strike one,’ I heard the umpire shout out as I relaxed and looked away from the sun watching the white spots dance about as I. Not that she believed in hypnotism, at least not the type these shows generally promised. Shows where the supposed 'victims', usually students paid for their efforts she guessed, jumped on the stage like rabbits or whatever. She would enjoy a laugh or some smoke and mirrors on this boring class trip, and, well, he would be there.He - he was Mr. Alban, their gym teacher. He was tanned, muscled and the living dream of every girl in the whole highschool. All of the girls in the class were excited. You’re putting on a real show!?Bored with the tempo, John turns the dial on the generator to reduce the time between pulses. From the corner of my eye I see him adjust the power another two notches. Lillian’s feet skip off the copper sheet, one at a time and sometimes both. She looks like she’s being stung by a hive of bees and her cries are nearly continuous, making it hard to tell where one begins and the other ends.The current finds the balls of her feet every time they touch the copper. He smells nice. But he’s still a jerk. “Let me see your driver’s license and vehicle registration.” Afraid to remove her hands from the steering wheel, the young woman nodded toward her open purse on the seat next to her. “They’re in my wallet.” The no-nonsense policeman reached across Felicia again and picked up her purse. Holding it open he shined the flashlight into it and inspected its contents. After pulling out her wallet, he extracted the documents. He removed his sunglasses and.
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