Your Skin

Your skin, I say giving knuckles to him.

Yours, he replies.

We go into our bags and retrieve a marble to choose from to play with.

Milky, normal’ i say holding up a blue-white sphere.

OK, Milky, normal, says my opponent begrudgingly.

Yours, says my opponent.

I throw and the marble lands six feet away in the dirt.

Yours, I say.

My opponent throws and lands eight feet away.

Far, I say.

Far, says my opponent.

We walk over to where the marbles are leaving our bags behind on the wall.

Yours, says my opponent.

I flick my marble and it comes to rest a foot away from his.

Yours, I say.

My opponent crouches down onto his knees and measures the distance between the marbles with his eyes. He flicks, and misses.

Miss, I say

Yours, says my opponent

I flickĀ and hit. A win.

Shot, says my opponent.

I pick up my winnings smiling, We walk back to our marble bags for another game.