Pool Shark [open]
Jan 15, 2012 20:25:52 GMT -5
Post by Maria Becker on Jan 15, 2012 20:25:52 GMT -5
Late afternoon on a Thursday – the student lounge was barely populated; there was only the soft hum of the TV and a few lazy conversations. The pool tables were empty, save for Maria. Pool was her vice – it was a game of intuitive physics and a good distraction from whatever else was in going on in her life. Her first week at Hammel had been what most first weeks were – a little awkward and a little anxious, but promising. No besties or bosom buddies (she snorted slightly at her own weird phrasing) yet, but things would get better with time, as long as she stuck it out. So, in the mean time: pool.
CLACKthunkthunkclink
Maria rocked back on her heels, leaning a little on her cue, surveying the balls scattered across the pool table. It wasn’t her best break ever – she hadn’t even gotten anything in, but it wasn’t a bad set up.
Tilting her head to the left, she sighted down her arm, paused, and silently mouthed something to herself.
Three to side pocket.
Pulling back her arm, she sent the cue forward, and, with a satisfying sound, cleanly sunk the little red ball. Maria cracked a small smile and moved to the other side of the table to continue. She was on a good streak – balls kept falling neatly into their intended pockets. One particularly difficult shot had her stretched across the table, widthwise, her arms bent awkwardly and one leg sticking straight out, for balance. She squinted, wrinkling her nose.
No, she decided, she didn’t like that angle.
Rising, she slid awkwardly off the table, propping one hand on her hip as she bit her bottom lip. She looked up and accidentally locked eyes with a nearby student. She smiled, a little sheepishly. Might as well.
”Well, which do you think is the better shot?” She asked, ”The six or the twelve?”
CLACKthunkthunkclink
Maria rocked back on her heels, leaning a little on her cue, surveying the balls scattered across the pool table. It wasn’t her best break ever – she hadn’t even gotten anything in, but it wasn’t a bad set up.
Tilting her head to the left, she sighted down her arm, paused, and silently mouthed something to herself.
Three to side pocket.
Pulling back her arm, she sent the cue forward, and, with a satisfying sound, cleanly sunk the little red ball. Maria cracked a small smile and moved to the other side of the table to continue. She was on a good streak – balls kept falling neatly into their intended pockets. One particularly difficult shot had her stretched across the table, widthwise, her arms bent awkwardly and one leg sticking straight out, for balance. She squinted, wrinkling her nose.
No, she decided, she didn’t like that angle.
Rising, she slid awkwardly off the table, propping one hand on her hip as she bit her bottom lip. She looked up and accidentally locked eyes with a nearby student. She smiled, a little sheepishly. Might as well.
”Well, which do you think is the better shot?” She asked, ”The six or the twelve?”
