I want a baseball. I don't know why. I don't play baseball. I don't even really like it. I find watching it on TV, or in person, about as thrilling as watching water drip onto a sponge. But still about 11:30 last night it hit me that I would like to have a baseball. A nice new white ball with bright red stitching. The brand doesn't matter although seeing "Rawlings" written across the sweet spot in blue script would be nice. I just want to hold it. Maybe toss it up in the air a few times. I wouldn't take it outside where it might get dirty. That would ruin it. I would toss it back and forth between my hands. Or sit it on the table next to me while I read.
I want a baseball.
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