prompt: write about a mystery

As I finished the wiping, then started another, “how did this happen so fast, these bums in these diapers?” I’ll never quite know, the mystery of God; his gifts and his picking of two people together, or the thoughts of that ball, made of plastic of white, bouncing between us, a boy and a girl; its flight short and happy, over that table for tennis.

It began as a friendship, and long conversations, about beliefs and our dreams and jokes we found funny. The shyness in me, and innocence, too, took a rather long time to notice him, though; the warmth of his eyes and joy in his smile, his heart ever patient, and loyal, and kind. He asked me to play ping-pong, after Mario Brothers ended in my losing frustration. With my single right hand grasping the paddle, I joined in the game of marriage and babies and all that is happy.

We played for a while, and I was doing quite well, better than ever, for a girl with no skill, or even an interest in the properties of serves or how to keep score at that basement table. Yet, I held the lead with pompous delight that he seemed to enjoy, for he already knew that there is never a time I don’t revel in winning. As the game came to a close, I rejoiced and spoke loudly of beating a boy, yet it was him who was winning the girl with the voice high in volume. As he put down the paddle, with a grin wide and gleaming, I noticed his hands, his left and his right, strong with a nerve in their pulse and a plan that was working. My eyes became wide at what hung by his side, revealing his jovial affection for me. His predominant one, made for handshakes and hockey, never did enter the game that he lost. They grew even wider, their darkness opening, at the notice of flutters, and butterflies dancing, igniting my heart. The ball, small and silent, rested with purpose fulfilled, its spin having never turned naïve into notice. The mystery of God is one hard to fathom, at the thought of a life so happy and joyful, built by a ball; small, round and plastic, bouncing between us right into our hearts. The game he did forfeit, yet the prize we both won: five years married and forever, and the next diaper too.