Tetherball

I never knew about the sport until I was a teenager. I was a Parks and Rec leader wondering exactly what it is I was to do with this heavy over-sized pole. When I finally figured out which end goes in the ground I placed it there and the kids knew exactly what to do with it. Oh the looks of absolute joy on their faces as they would fight to bring the ball as close to them as possible just so they could hit it away from them as hard as their bodies would allow. An interesting sport I thought to myself. There's something naturally destructively pleasing about putting all your effort into tying up this ball and leaving it with nowhere to go.

Now I am that tether ball, and I find the sport far less pleasing. Oh, with what joy they bring me close, just to smack me in the face with fingers of reality. The reality that I am hanging, that this is all a game, that I was not brought close into their embrace for comfort. The plan was always to slap me. Then they would go home and smile about memories of when we were close and how proud they felt that they were the ones who left me bound. Now I hang here in the heat of the afternoon sun, fearful of nightfall.

At least I still have a long pole.