Against a backdrop of card tables and umbrellas, 7-year-olds sow the seeds of discord.
One jostle will soon upset the delicate balance of the universe. Fruit will come tumbling in slo-motion, finally making a shattering impact with hot asphalt.
It is then for a split-second that eyes from above will bulge forth and shoot darts. The accidental perpetrator will then make his stealthy getaway into the festive throngs of a secret Saturday. And amidst the pulp and broken rind lies the future seeds of Sunday's discord.
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