Free Valley of Flowers by Chris Collins

easy go of it would not be
the case and he backed off the shot.
     
    Nicolas again went back into it. He set his
biased stance over the ball. He assumed his normal two-plank
strategy. Butterflies had not migrated but went south. They had in
fact increased their flight traffic.
     
    He told himself he was about ready. Nicolas settled into his stance more . He worked hard at
getting his feet in position. They were at equal points, though the heavier
burden was decidedly placed on the back or right foot. He turned in his left foot to get it more square. It felt like a weighted
stone.
     
    Just do your part, his left foot seemed to
tell him. We'll k eep the
swing tight.
     
    Nicolas hoped there was more trouble to consider. He had the feeling to
stand up straighter. He went from focusing on his grip to where
there was a warring battle of nerves being played out. This had him
shaking like a proverbial leaf.
     
    Once, twice, again, he moved the 3-wood back
and forth while staring at his rotund little nemesis. He fought to
get back his groove. Nicolas looked to the one hovering as an alien
craft behind the ball.
     
    In a whisper that came in a quivering tone
he said, "Still I do not relish this."
     
    He next looked to the Valley of Flowers sparkling
bright. All appeared fresh and alive. Trust showed and attempted to
writ large on his face. He gripped the club tighter then let go some. He adjusted his posture from loose
pillar to post. Nicolas continued perform ing this bit of bad theater for the paying-for-it flower crowd. He
wondered how he can ever
reconcile hitting into this colorful flowered valley.
     
    He settled in again within himself. He went
further into the idea of hitting the ball. He opened then closed his hands over the 3-wood. Nicolas discovered it was not at all easy to grip the
club with his nervous digit nerves. It m ight have appeared he was holding a red-hot
pipe.
     
    Nicolas endured twelve seconds of
perspiration. Inside his head he forced an Okay! message. He
signaled his reflexes to get in there and do the dirty work. He wished not to think
but allow muscle memory to take over.
     
    But
then, as if ringing the doorbell twice, Nicolas held the
club firmer but not too. He told himself he could take the swing at any
time , and so he turned away from his troubles.
His mind left off the effort at getting his body to stand more
correctly.
     
    Again Nicolas backed off the shot. He stepped back to look at one area over
the flower valley. He looked to the
scaling, seven snow-clad mountain idols and sought resolve. He might have had harsh
feelings for the one holding up his play t o now, but Nicolas readily forgave himself for this.
     
    He noted in the next instant one more thing.
He believed it was not always an easy ask to give the grand okay a
nudge and to just say Yes! to it.
     
    With a reluctant heart he went back in but s talled more. He hoped to get a sense the flowers were going to be okay with this. He
prayed for some sign from the Upstairs. Receiving no answer he
aimed to just trust.
     
    12
     
    Nicolas stood with his plan to send a
no-hoper into the lake. His mind , though , created excuses for not being able. As to how to go about
hitting , Nicolas had no
real idea. To him it seemed the body of someone else stood over
it.
     
    He felt ill thinking he would be striking
out into this world soon. He tried coming up with last-minute answers to a few
unending questions. He argued in his head for more time .
     
    Nicolas remained at the spot as an observer
might, taking serious note but outwardly doing nothing. He believed this act of
hitting might lay heavily on his conscience forever.
    He felt Arjuna m ight take this chance to ask if everything was
okay with him , or would
he be needing to take mental tests.
     
    He looked at what lies ahead for him. His sad sight went to all locations.
Images collected in his mind and he saw only horror. He felt his talent could seep out
of his toes over this.