Narrative Scene

This is a scene from my Narrative Paper!!

The familiar click-clack of my metal cleats on the pavement of the parking lot took over my thoughts as I trotted out to the worn grey shed behind the fence near home plate. As I swung the door open, I heard the same sound the large door always made; a grinding followed by some squeaky joints that sounded like WD-40 might be a few years overdue. The rotting wood on the door grabbed my attention, making me wonder how no one had gotten a splinter from the dead wood that was all too prevalent in the rickety building.

As I grabbed the black bucket with a crack on one side, I noticed how cluttered the shed was.

I wish someone would clean this place up. Just finding anything could take half of a practice if you didn’t know where to look.

I got the bucket and headed back towards the field. My fingers started to feel the strain from holding on to the short sides of the bucket, seeing as the handle had long since broken off. I jogged back through the gate and out to the pitcher’s mound where Coach was talking to a few of the guys.

“Brink! What took you so long? I was starting to think you might have gotten lost in there.” Coach said.

“Sorry about that, I had a hard time finding the bucket under all that junk.” And I’m surprised nothing fell off the shelf and killed me!