CATAPULT

One day years ago I was playing stickball at my old grammar school. It was a nondescript summer afternoon, but for some reason a side door was open. I went inside.

I walked the hallways in a bit of a daze, as recollections both sharp and dim pinged my brain.

Of course, everything was smaller than I remembered. I stooped to get a drink from the water fountain.

Last night I was listening to “Is This It?” and, well, let’s just say I had to stoop to drink from the fountain…