The glint in her eye was as bright as the sun filled the room. He kissed her and made for his car and the commute home. It was a normal commute. The sports radio talk shows and music was on. Like every time, he prepared and said it to himself.
It's dusk on the ride back and the fields were releasing steam as it got cooler. Eerie, and even eerier was the stag that presented himself around the bend. He had not seen a stag so close and as many points; fourteen. The burnt light was contrasted by the steel green of the field. A monument was in the foreground to the woods that began to creep up the hill behind the stag. The stag turned into the woods.
When he hung up the phone he was standing on the Hershey's milk can that stood on the front steps for years. He was three feet up. The hop down was awkward. Like mashing two words together, he stumbled and sat on the steps. The flint spun and the crackle of the cigarette lighting and burning down with the first drag was loud.
She was never a big baseball fan until Manny became a 10/5 guy. He never knew what a 10/5 guy was until she told him. Ever since then she new the schedule, watched many games and checked box scores. She had Papelbon's prep and move to home plate down, and showed the kids. The kids didn't care and he never forgot.