Counting, by D. Avery
“Come on, Buddy, that’s at least fifty.”
When they were kids, they counted to ten. Then twenty-five. Fifty was a maximum.
Sometimes they just had their hands, clenching a fist with the index finger serving as barrel, thumb as hammer. Sometimes they’d find perfectly shaped sticks. Christmas might bring a realistic looking cap gun.
Cops and robbers, cowboys and Indians; “Bang, you’re dead”, and if it was an obvious hit you had to fall down for a specified count.
Now they were playing army. They were the good guys.
“Buddy, just get up. I don’t want to play anymore.”
Carrot Ranch; June 8, 2017 prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story that involves playing an outdoor game, like tetherball, hoops, tag. It can be made up, traditional, cultural or any kind of twist. Go where the prompt leads.