A Story About A Basketball

See this ball. It’s a ball like many other balls in Portland. It’s lying on the street. A normal ordinary street in a nice-ish neigbourhood. That ball will still be there tomorrow. And it will still bounce.

Everywhere I’ve ever lived before that ball would have been dead within an hour. A pissed student would have kicked it somewhere out of reach, a pitbull would have burst it, some kids would have nicked it for profit or just for fun, pretty much it would be killed 100 times in an hour.

I’m not quite ready to actually trust people yet, but it’s nice to live in a place where you can leave a ball on the street overnight.