Call the Shot
By Fewthistle

Author's Note: Written for the Break Challenge at the Livejournal Community T100.

Because I miss Lennie. For Animaltalker.

White ball. Green felt. Blue chalk. The smooth wood of the cue sliding between thumb and forefinger. The sudden flash of the stick as he draws it back and releases, like the spring of a pinball machine. The small white globe hurtling through space, to collide with a constellation of many-hued globes. The big bang, ad infinitum, writ small.

Geometry in motion. No dead bodies. No mourning families. No lying perps. No stench of decay. Just this. His world, encompassed in a verdant rectangle. In a cloud of cigarette smoke. In the feel of the cue in his hands. Break.