Unspoken Passions
It was pouring down hard and the field was all muddy and wet. I had watched all the other boys leave one by one. Most of them had parents who stayed and watched the game. The only thing keeping me from mother nature was a thin soccer jersey with my favorite number on the back. I made my way to a wooden picnic table I used to sit under to wait for my mom when I was younger. I crawled under and wondered how I ever fit under here before. My limbs jut out the side a bit awkwardly as I...