Valley of Flowers
    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
    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
    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
    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

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