NOTE: This story is a bit out of character. It is a “not funny” story…on purpose. Other entries on here may not be funny, but that’s not on purpose. This story was submitted to the NYCMidnight 250-word Microfiction challenge. I was given 24 hours to write a fairy tale/fantasy story that included bartering and the word “pitch”. This was a fun project. I hope you enjoy…The Pitch.
Saturday.
Dave and Riley walked silently towards the market.
“Riley, hunny, I just don’t know how else to help you master that pitch.”
She didn’t let on whether or not she had heard him.
Why were they going to the team party anyway? Neither of them really felt up to it.
Dave thought it would be good for his girl. Riley thought it would be good for her dad.
It had been six months since Sarah died.
Dave didn’t notice the old woman sitting slumped outside the market with an apple in her hand.
Dave was in a fog.
If you had asked him, he wouldn’t have been able to explain why he looked up through his sadness.
They locked eyes.
“Dave. Sarah misses you.”
Dave dropped his phone. “What?”
The old woman picked it up.
“Let Sarah go, Dave, and Riley will get that pitch.”
“What are you talking about? Who are you?”
Riley didn’t notice the exchange. She was in her own world.
“Riley. Here’s my card. Go in and get snacks for the girls. You know my PIN?”
Riley disappeared.
“Dave. Sarah is at peace. Let her go. Then Riley will get her pitch.”
Dave stared incomprehensibly.
“How? Please give me my phone back. I have to go.”
She handed Dave his phone. And the apple.
Sunday.
“STRIIIIKE THREEEEEEEEE!”
Riley’s teammates swarm her on the mound.
Dave heard “When did she perfect that pitch? They haven’t hit it all day.”
Dave smiled. And bit into the apple.
itsJamesD.com 