General

Playing tennis with that felt sun winging its way over the net, making that characteristic sound from all-squared strings to the rain-washed court.

General

Playing tennis was our way of venting, of letting out what should be released into the wide sky above. I guess it was a prayer of sorts. For always after a game my thoughts were in better shape, more relaxed and well reasoned.

General

The rhythm of those rallies, the beat as good as any syncopatic beat, was how my soul felt each tennis match. We were playing with more than our conscious selves, more than the sum of our parts would suggest we can become.

General

We were the worst in the world at playing tennis, but the best at laughing so freely every time we tried. We had fun. We got fresh air. And in that I guess we won.