It was summertime, but Gracie was still encased in her office. She was distracted though by euphoric cheers and shouts, and even of dismayed groans emanating from the baseball field she could spy on from her second-storey office window. She could and she did spy - often - even when she should have been working.
Today was no exception. She sighed, got up, and gazed out of what she termed, "The Baseball Window". Even though she herself couldn't play well, she did, from time to time. More often than not, her bites of baseball came from the entertainment viewed from her window here. The game in present progress must be a friendly match of some sort as there was a mix of men, women and children playing. "Maybe it is a church group or family reunion," Gracie mused. "They were usually the most fun and relaxed. Most players didn't care too much about score. Of course; there was always the one or two who were annoyingly competitive and sometimes put a damper on the fun."
"Oh wow," she monologued, "that's a great hit! Ha, ha, looks like a home-runner hit. Go, go!" she shouted even though they couldn't her her.
The boss did though. He appeared around the door, "Gracie, away from the window, back to the desk!"
"Yes, Mr. Bailey." she said meekly, turning reluctantly away from her gallery viewpoint and plunking herself back into her chair.
She glanced at her watch. Sigh. Still an hour to go. "Summer was torture at times; too nice out to be chained in," she muttered to herself. "Vacation time can't come too soon."
Another uproarious outburst of screams, shouts and applauds...Gracie couldn't contain herself, she popped up out of her chair like toasted toast, even leaping into the air, and pasted herself to the window once more.
Oh, bases must have been loaded. Three runners making a beeline for home and a fourth diving to first base. "Hah, made it. Just. Safe!" Gracie whispered, mindful now of the Boss's good hearing.
Ha, ha, the pitcher was distractd and missed the first base runner who stole to second. Second baseman shouted for the ball. Pitcher man was too late. The girl, yes, girl, on second grinned like a banshee.
Gloating laughter erupted from her being, very much pleased with her success.
The pitcher wiped his forehead sweat on the back of his hand and onto his pants then poised and wound up for the next pitch. Hah, a guy with an ego-look was up at bat. Gracie looked to see who the outfielders were and why that batter was visibly puffing himself up. "Ah, a bunch of Asian Orientals by the looks of it. Probably international university students. They don't stand much chance I figure but I'll root for them," she told herself.
Sure enough, Mr. Ego swung like he played for the Toronto Blue Jays, who do have something to be proud of in all their homerun after homerun style. "SMACK!" the bat connected magnificiently with the ball and soared above the players' heads in a wondrous arc.
Up and up and then the descent of the ball was monitored by all with baited breath.
The tense outfielders, mouths agape in awe or panic, Gracie couldn't tell which, had finally begun "a bit late," she thought, to move hopefully into a projected-catch position. Huh, they must be mathematicians or civil engineers or something. Mr. Ego was already on second, rushing to third when, oh, ha, ha, ha, Mr. Oriental, caught the ball! "Well done, Mister!" she wanted to shout but muted it, mindful again of her boss's perfect hearing.
If looks could kill, Mr. Ego would certainly have done so to Mr. Oriental. She could actually see that dirty look from her stance above the thrall. As usual, so much for a "friendly match".
She chuckled to herself and sat back at her desk, attempting to once again engross herself in her work. Just in time too, cuz Mr. Bailey Boss peeked in at her. "Just checking," he said.
That made her grin even more. So the day was ending on a happy note and there were only twenty minutes left, then she'd run for home.
~ERC February 2022~
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