Billiard

He plays really well. He has already knocked me and three other guys down. He is wearing the type of hat that the detective in Pink Panter used to wear, with tight T-shirt stick to his thin muscular body. I am marching around the table and gazing at colorful balls on the table. I look at the table as if I was looking at the centre of the world, like sun, and I was like this planet earth spinning around it.



“I will win you next time damn it“ I whispered. Their game is over. I put my thumb and pointing finger in my tiny jeans pocket and pull out three coins I had saved for this special time. I sit on my knees to put the coins in their slut. I slide the coins in biting my lower lips and slide it out swinging my arms backward. I hear the balls are rolling out the table. I march to the other corner of the table where I grab the balls, three in each hand, and put them in a black triangle. While arranging the ball in the triangle, I watch the guy putting chalk on the tip of his stick having this annoying smile on his face.



He starts breaking. He does it so hard so the balls try to jump off the table. He is so fucking hard on them. But, I am not. I have learnt to be soft and elegant to them, like being with women. In the first shot, I put 5 balls in. Like always happens, I start being panic at the moment of victory. I screwed up the sixth ball. Now it is his fucking turn. He screwed up on the third one. It was my turn. I softly rolled a ball along the length of the table, kissing one of my balls, blinding all his shots. He screwed up again. It is my turn again. I put them all in. It is the black ones turn. It is situated right next to a hole with the white ball few inches away from it. It couldn’t be easier than that. I screw it. I lost the victory I had. Why?