{W}rite of Passage: Slapshot

It's cold at the park today. The wind has picked up and the last of the fall leaves have given up and lie forgotten, wedged into the corners. Even though it is noon, the light is faded. Clouds are blowing in, bringing the promise of a rainy afternoon.

Despite all this, Claire still wants to go to the park after school. We bundle up, and head across the street. Ben is snuggled down in his carseat, infant nose scrunched up as he dreams his sweet baby dreams.

Before long we are the only three people left playing.

As we walk up the hill back towards home, we see him.
Hockey Man.

He's tall and thin, dressed in battered jeans, an old Ranger's jersey, hockey gloves, and a ski hat. Dark glasses obscure his eyes. He carries his gear in a battered black trash bag.

He is quick and light on his feet - feet that are encased in a pair of battered, old roller skates. Instead of skate boots, his skates are strapped to faded, dusty construction boots. We've seen him before, skating effortlessly around the playing field, dodging past the baseball teams, games of horse and young kids on bikes. No one else plays hockey here, in this urban setting, and so he circles around.

This is my first exercise for {W}rite of Passage. Today's assignment was "character."


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