The first bully I have ever met was named . Her name was a mouthful and she was a handful. She was known by the whole tennis community as a “little pill”. During her matches, she constantly wailed curses and insults at her opponent. She made atrocious line
calls and she often changed the score. I was new to the national tennis scene, and didn’t know...
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There we sat, my mom, my dad, my brother, and I, in a tight circle on our living room carpet, around our family’s beloved dog, Cocoa. I lightly stroked her chocolate fur and imagined living without her. Cocoa had been my dog for the last 4 years. During those 4 years, I had fallen in love with the sport of tennis. Each morning I left for school early, directly after walking Cocoa for a quick ten minutes. Then after school, I played tennis all afternoon. Because of my hectic schedule, Cocoa was by herself all day long. When I got...CLICK THE LINK TO READ THE REST!
http://life-as-kiki.blogspot.com/2011/07/saying-goodbye.html
Upon arriving at the tennis courts, we unloaded our overstuffed tennis bags onto the shriveled grass, and applied thick layers of sunscreen to our already tanned skin. It was only 10:30, and the sun was already blazing. We fished our hands into the grocery baskets of tennis balls, which had quickly aged from our daily usage. There were...
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http://life-as-kiki.blogspot.com/2011/07/greatness-evoked-by-peer-pressure.html
A dull hum seeps from the belly of our sailboat. "The motor's on," my dad says with smiling eyes. You don't have to know my father to understand his love of sailing. You can see it in his eyes. They reflect wisdom, joy, and a passion as deep as the sea. His eyes are navy, like the ocean on a stormy morning. His eyes tell all. A few people gather...
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http://life-as-kiki.blogspot.com/2011/07/leaving-tortola.html
I drag white Nike socks over my equally white feet, so that only my tanned skin shows. My feet never see daylight, and I wouldn’t want them to either. It’s embarrassing, when people see the vulgar calluses, and dead flaking skin, so I keep them caged like lions in my tennis shoes, where they are most needed. Riding the elevator to the...
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http://life-as-kiki.blogspot.com/2011/07/lonely-sport-of-tennis.html
I crouched, in anticipation. Muscles taunt and loaded. Eyes alert and focused. The lonely yellow tennis ball wandered across the net and landed short. I exploded upward and forward, like a firecracker on Independence Day. It’s a forehand. I like forehands. The ball bounced lackadaisically, and drifted upward. Perfect. I whipped my...
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http://life-as-kiki.blogspot.com/2011/07/losing-mental-battle.html
