The other day, I became over-zealous with Eddie’s ball whilst throwing it around at the park and it flew over a fence, into someone’s back garden. If I’m honest, I threw it like a bit of a mong and it slipped from my fingers.
Eddie loves this ball. He’s had it since he was a puppy and it’s the only toy he hasn’t been able to destroy over the years. I was going to have to get it back.
I worked out which house it was out on the road and knocked on the door. A woman answered and I politely made my enquiry.
“Please may I have my ball back?”
She allowed me through the very dark, slightly stale-smelling house to have a look through her garden, which was like some sort of ball emporium. Footballs, tennis balls, rubber balls- there was every type of ball you could imagine.
Fortunately, I found Eddie’s ball next to the green house, whcih was dotted in cracks and holes. I hadn’t heard the tell-tale crack sound when the ball went over the fence and the woman didn’t mention any new damage, so I assume Eddie’s ball didn’t cause any.
I thanked the woman and left- Eddie fell asleep. I don’t think that ball will ever be the same for him.