Game Day

She saw red.  The jerk behind her – the one using the f-word within earshot of children, the one who downed way too many beers already and was just starting on another -painted the shoulder of her brand-new, pale orange t-shirt with bright yellow mustard.

“Keep control of your hotdog,” she muttered as he failed to apologize.

But she wasn’t going to let a rogue wiener deface her picture-perfect day:

The lush green diamond and the cloudless blue sky against a backdrop of  indigo-tinted Rockies.  It was Monday and the team was wearing purple… or was that violet?


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