Write about: the racket.
Survived my second evening of badminton. My play is definitely improving, but I was also definitely the worst player there. I'm aware that this is to be expected, but my competitive side is still irked by my place at the bottom of the ladder.
After spending a good chunk of the afternoon preparing for it, I am not almost ready to go to the market on Saturday with my cards and prints. The main thing I still want to do is a test setup of the table, to see what works and if there are any extra things I'll need to bring.
So... I guess I'll be doing that tomorrow.
The rally began shortly after noon on a clear, crisp day in October. It began as a small group, with perhaps as few as ten men marching together, but it gathered in size and strength as it made its way through the narrow streets of the town.
These things always seem to work that way. Who cares what we're protesting or celebrating or whatevering, just get in on the fun!
No one tried to stop them or even slow their progress. But they were watched closely, every step of the way. The surveillance only increased as they approached the royal palace.
"What on Earth is going on out there?" the king asked from the safety of his warm and welcoming bed.
"It's the badminton players again, Your Highness," his aide replied. "They are making a rather terrible racket with their rackets."
"Oh, is it that time of year again already?"
"Indeed, sire. You can always rely on them to start complaining about the lack of an indoor playing space when fall begins to be swallowed by winter."