To a stranger, they were just heavy spheres. To Leo, they were a second chance.
He remembered the "thwack-pop" of the pocket catching the ball—a rhythmic heartbeat that had kept him steady through his parents' divorce and the long months of physical therapy after the ACL tear.
Leo walked to the register, the ball heavy and solid in his palm. He didn’t need a bag. As he stepped out into the crisp autumn air, he gave the ball a short, sharp toss into the air. It spun against the blue sky, a perfect white circle. He caught it without looking.
Tomorrow at 6:00 AM, the brick wall would have its rhythm back.