Anna

It has been a while since she's played pool. Her companions set up the balls and they begun their game. It was her turn and so she nervously pushed her glasses back up and tucked her hair behind her ear. She remembered so clearly the times they had playing pool and she aimed and shot. The ball stopped short of the hole but it was close. She smiled. Her pool playing skills were wholly dependent upon him. He used to tell her which ball to hit, where exactly to aim. He would place his fingers at places where she would need to hit. All her shots were to his credit. She played his game really. He would sometimes even hold the cue in position. It was her turn again. She cannot help but play his game. The only way she knew how to play it. She saw his face, his smile, aimed where his finger was and rested as he held the cue in position. Shot. Her turn again. Turn after turn, she played as directed by him. His voice orating the colour, number of the ball, his fingers pointing, his head nodding, his steady hold behind her as she shoots. Another shot. Shot after shot until the last final ball. She wanted to play it herself now, she wanted to play her game now, for she had always been playing his. So she pushed him out of her mind and focussed. The number 8 ball taunted her as she aimed and shot. Missed. Turn after turn she missed. She was frustrated and sighed. She closed her eyes and remembered him again. Clearly. He gently came around to her side and directed her as she closed her left eye to aim, she carefully pulled the cue back and pushed it gently forward. The white ball rolled and stopped as it firmly nudged the black ball into the hole. Game. She won. She wasn't much of a pool player I guess, not as much as he was. She sighed. I guess it's alright. That way he could still be there to play the games. Even though he'd been gone for a long time now, gone far away. He still lived in her pool-playing. The one she loved with all her heart still lived, in her pool playing.