"All thoughts of mechanics aside and my apologies for the un-skilled attempt at prose hear, but this is what I see and feel when I shoot the nine ball in the corner pocket and this is why I play."
High above the shining spheres he stood.
With soles of his shoes frozen to the floral pattern of the woolen floor.
The length of is tall stature wavering ever so slightly.
Rocking, first to the left, then to the right, barely perceptible.
Movements like an inverted pendulum nearing the end of its life.
Then, suddenly the whole of the structure would shift
in one direction or another reseating itself
only to repeat the delicate dance once again
until the pendulum is still and time is frozen in that moment of truth.
His piercing eyes descending
along the invisible beam emanating from the brilliant white sphere.
With the fore of his arm moving in and out
searching for exact synchronization with the unseen bridge of light. Forward…Pause…Back, Forward…Pause…Back, Pause…
forward on into infinity, propelling the shining white source of light into the future, irretrievable, now at the mercy of circumstance and physics.
The silent beam of light swallowed up by the thundering sound of the colliding spheres and the burst of a white and yellow tracer destined for it’s own oblivion, gaping invitingly in one corner of it’s gentle green universe.
Steve in CA