The Orange Ball
It was a simple ball, round in shape and Orange in color. It was highly attractive for the eight ten year old children who were gathered around it to commence a harmless game of Futball. In this neck of the woods, East Jerusalem, it was called Futball not Soccer. The reddish hue of Youssef’s hair was near in its tint to the ball, in fact- for that matter so were the freckles dotting his face. On the other side of the small pitch was a boy with long curly hair named Ahmed, leading his newly found friends, against Youssef’s side. To watch them from a park bench, as their mothers intently did, you would think Germany was about to kick off against Argentina in the final of the World Cup. But it was only the innocence of the world’s game that had these eight boys tantalized, unaware of the violence that had wracked their land for the past three weeks.
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of the Futball match. To be published this week.