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Scent of the Game
Courtney Brockett
 #13
sets a ruck, Shoulder
driving the opponent, she places the ball and I plow
over her as I hear her body hit the ground.
I’m
bound to #5 with one arm and my other reaches
out to grab onto whatever
it can find: a
jersey, hair, skin, fat, a
boob, and I
don’t let go. Somebody
bashes into my head like a ram, blurring
my vision, but calling forth the remaining
senses. The
grunts of power pushing against power fills my
ears like water swishing in my head, unable to get out and somebody’s
hair is smothering my face. The
scent of shampoo fills my nose, smells like flowers or fruit, or some mixture sweet
among sweat. I
escape from the ruck, and with returned vision I follow
the pack scanning the field for the girl with the ball, I
find myself wondering who was wearing a smell like that in a place like this. |
