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June 23, 2005

Stacy: One Away

She stood in the sweltering afternoon sun, taking shallow breaths of the tepid air. Sweat trickled down her back, made her palms slick. The stench rising from the stagnant pond behind her was pervasive, rotting vegetation cloying at her nostrils.

She squinted at the grass, trying to see through sweat stung eyes. Her mind wandered, made leaden by the heat. Visions of cool showers, icy drinks and air conditioning pulled at her thoughts.

She gripped the club firmly and swung. The ball rolled up, down, sideways, and missed the cup by two inches.

“Sorry, babe,” he said, “that’s a bogie.”

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