Her husband was already a full staircase ahead. She could feel him glaring at her over his shoulder, scratching his forearm in the way that meant, "We're going to be late for tennis and it's your fault."

Atop Tennis Tower, she found her husband and fifteen burly men heaving tennis ball after tennis ball into the clouds below.

"That's not tennis!" she yelled over the men's grunts.

"Yeah it is!" her husband shouted back.

After a few minutes she said to no one in particular, "There's no such thing as tennis anymore, I guess."

.

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