Sonya’ Siren Song
It was late summer, on a Friday afternoon, after a long week, as I turned into my driveway, and there was Sonya, playing a solo game of basketball with the hoop over the garage door. The weather was still warm, and she was wearing a pair of denim shorts and a pink sleeveless top, and as she jumped gracefully into the air to take a shot, I thought, She moves just like her mother. She put the ball straight through the hoop, caught it on its first bounce off the concrete, and then turned to face me, smiling happily and dribbling the ball on the spot, as I put the car into Park and switched off the engine. “Hey, Leon,” she said, as I got out. She always called me by my first name. “Hi,” …