One more blow came down hard onto the earth. The turf that rose seemed to pop up and ask , Why me? In place of actual kindness, Nicolas felt that the breeze had meant for him to be a bit more honest. This may have resulted in him coughing up a lung from laughter.
He heard in his head the call for him to accept all swing gyrations. Nicolas listened to his mind say, These too are born and created things. It meant each was lovely, a thing to cherish and not scoff at. He looked at Arjuna's swing that seemed to be a series of extreme wrongdoings. He wanted to know how something as beautiful and natural as a golf swing could go so wrong.
As he did not want to be detected for any sniper grinning, his head shot down to stare at the grass that had become so exceedingly interesting. He thought to assume the guise of a practicing philosopher. From this down-looking position Nicolas heard another swing fly by. He stifled a smirk. He suffocated it sufficiently. Nicolas was then hard at work inventing an expression he could show more publicly. He went back to observing Arjuna's efforts at getting started .
After more practice swings, the old man suddenly backed off his three-point stance. He stepped away from the plate to escape from some undetermined pressure. He took in a larger scope of the flower fairway .
Arjuna studied all he surveyed. He peered at the Indian Himalayas made up of vanilla ice cream. The upturned cones with ice cream on top appeared vast and majestic. They looked moderately eaten also from a few bright-lit days.
Arjuna thought of those residing in the heavenly beyond. Without a word, he headed to the one teed up. He went step by slow step. The old man went as one attempting to get back his swag or say-so.
Nicolas sent his head back down. He studied once more the same patch of grass that had so fascinated him. He feared what might come at any time from Arjuna's sudden moves at the ball. Nicolas hid another urge to crack up.
One question loomed in the gloom . It seemed destined to remain beyond his efforts at mind control. Th e idea crept cl ose and stayed . The thought parked there in his little bean. The suggestion seemed as if it might remain until someone brave happened along to tell Arjuna a thing or two about the ease of hitting a little white ball, which was not even moving.
Arjuna took another turn at things. This induced yet one more gash on the ground. A gash too showed on the youth's now-hurting face.
Nicolas saw yet another clump of grass pop up. It looked like a newly a woken visitor. The grass seemed determined to relate a grievance to a park ranger.
Arjuna's next swing saw more grass pop up to complain. A chunk flew to one area. It appeared to look for outside help.
Arjuna's slashing at the ground opened up something more. Nicolas might have suffered a wider grin had his hand not reached up then to save the day. He was glad the old man had not turned and looked his way. In place of finding out , Arjuna had discovered a good grip. Yet even this required more adjustments.
A familiar query arrived in the youth's mind. It swirled as if carried on the wind. The thought suggested Nicolas give up his quest for overall fairness. His mind seemed to be telling him to quit his claim that all should be deemed lovely.
Another question could be heard in the remote regions of his mind. His thinker pushed the idea forward. It asked aloud what he would only dare muster under his breath.
Both breeze and boy confided in one another. Rebellion brewed within the ranks. Together in the youth's outgoing breath, the two, acting like juvenile delinquents, managed to say in unison, faint though none too vaguely, "Could that swing have ever actually worked?"
Nicolas concerned himself with the old man’s hand and arm movements. He thought the y were far too harried and also hurried. Nicolas felt there were needless gestures in