Kneestory

When I get on my knees nice things happen. If the choice was mine to make or maybe take my church would have only worship songs. Mostly altar calls. Aha! The good book says it too.. And my Fathers house shall be called the house of worship. If that’s all we did,we would be compelled to kneel throughout the service. Yours truly is a terrible dancer,anything that saves me the trouble of rhythmic moves is a gold mine.

Not so many years ago,on a Valentine’s day, I played a one on one matchup game with the then love of my life. For the record this had been tradition since my taste buds scream ballers. I have had two loves of my life,both ballers and both had this pick up game treat. Welcome to my feline world. It’s important that I note that this was entirely their idea which I embraced without a tinge of doubt. The first one,godhelpme,rolls eyes vigorously, I was naïve in life,love and basketball of course I lost in the last two. The first option means a chance to always explore so– life’s for the living and I am alive– let’s binge this season called growing up. The second Valentine’s day game, I was ,well a little bit taller and I had known how to do one two. He was first to score notsoeasy baskets because yours truly is never afraid of fouling.

My check chance came.,yours truly driving to the basket recklessly recklessly then I step on heavy duty or meet head on,not quite clear but how I landed was such a mess. Thinking about it three years later I still cringe. My knees which are usually bruised all over and have dominant scars from my very playful junior years was scratched severely. For a day or two I couldn’t walk,sleeping was hard too. I am glad he didn’t scratch my heart like that,well at least not then.

To date,I still struggle with any kind of bending that would want my knees active. But when I get on them,great things happen.,irregardless of the scars

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