William Faulkner Does Pickleball
William Faulkner Does Pickleball I stare at Linoleum Snopes across the net, hating him. “It don’t bounce proper,” I say. “It don’t hardly bounce at all.” He studies the service line at his feet, furious. The sun is hot. It don’t bounce proper. It just. “Eight-three-one,” he says. “You best back up some.” I don’t budge. I look back at Varse, my partner, daring him to boss me. He…