It was a hot summer day.
I was heading to the park with my brother
and we both strolled down East Central as a pair.
He was banging our brown basketball hard against the concrete
Up and down.
Up and down.

We hiked over the hill starting to pass the fire station.
The roads were filled with cars at a stand still in rush hour traffic.
I noticed to my left a fire truck was racing out of the station
with its bright sirens blaring loudly.
My brother was out of my sight dribbling the round ball.

I then felt the ball chip my back heel and I watched it roll into the street in astonishment.
I looked at my brother angrily and motioned him to get it.
He then refrained and argued back for me to grab it.
I only had a split second to decide the fate of our ball.
I took the walk of shame to the middle of the road
As all the people looked at me in laughter from their vehicles.
I grasped the ball with my large hands while
hearing my brothers aggravating laugh in the background.

I walked back to the sidewalk with my face red as a chili pepper.
It was a disaster.