The bearded man grips the ball hard enough to flex his forearms as the other two watch, their smooth, sun-bronzed skin glistening with salt. One leans forward on the wet rocks, fingers tracing the seams of the leather, while the third crouches low, ass raised, the tide lapping at his calves. The ball rolls between them, a pause before the next pass, until one snatches it back, teeth flashing as he hurls it toward the water.
+10+9+8+7+6+5
