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The Young Sorcerer

By 

Kathy Istace

I don’t want to be the last one picked for teams again

Waiting while the chosen vanish from my side one by one

Leaving me alone

Me, the booby prize

I don’t really blame them

After all, I can’t throw, or bat, or catch, or pitch, or run

And as for the last saving grace

No, I’m not popular

I'd like to think that the other kids are afraid

Afraid of my powers

The ball that beaned Ethan

That was me

Chelsea’s broken leg

Me again

Why can’t I use my powers to make me great?

Smack that ball right out of the field

I don’t know

They don’t work that way

They’re only good for evil

The kids aren’t scared of me, though

They don’t realize what I can do

And I’m too afraid to do any really bad stuff

At school, anyway

I’m last to be picked again

Instead of trudging shamefaced to the group

That would rather not claim me as its own

The sky breaks open and rain pours out

It had been clear blue only minutes ago

Game called

I smile, lifting my face to the storm as the others run inside

Yes, it was me.

Quiz question:

What sport was the young sorcerer playing?

Football

Football

Soccer

Soccer

Baseball

Baseball

Hockey

Hockey

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Issue 10

published 

February 22, 2017

The Young Sorcerer was written by Kathy Istace, who writes sci-fi, horror, fantasy and non-fiction. Her works have appeared in publications such as Coast to Coast: Canadian Stories, and her article "Flash Fiction: Long on Substance, Short on Time" will be featured in FellowScript. Find her on Twitter: @KathyIstace. 

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Issue 10

This writing was originally published in Opium Magazine, and is not listed in the Lit.cat archives.
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