//------------------------------//
// The Game 
// Story: Late-Night Scenes on a Buckball Pitch 
// by mushroompone 
//------------------------------//

“I don’t get it,” she said, folding her hooves over her chest. “This sucks.”

“What?” He looked down at her and chuckled softly. “Does not.”

“Does too!” she argued. “The bleachers are hard and cold. This game makes no sense. Your team never even wins.”

He frowned. “Well… they win sometimes.”

“But how can you love it so much?” 

He looked down onto the pitch, just as the ref blew his whistle. The spectators held a collective breath. The players panted, smiling weakly at one another. All of them, as one, waited.

A decision was made.

The decision didn’t matter. 

They began to play again.