On Letting Go

She stumbled out of a crowded club with a ridiculously obscure name, one of the usual places she spent her Friday nights. The air was humid but a slight breeze ruffled the hem of her black dress as she took slow strides down the Detroit street. Her head was only slightly clouded with the warm buzz created by alcohol, so she still had a familiar sense of direction. Finally she came to a stop in front of a looming structure, still lit up by the huge stadium lights. Spelled out in bold letters were the words "Comerica Park", the place she spent countless summer days at with family and friends. However, it had been years since she'd seen a ballgame, and as she got older, it became irrelevant to her interests. With her arms wrapped around her, she gazed up at the park in a nostalgic daze.

"Great, isn't it?" It was spoken so softly that she wasn't sure she had even heard it at first. It was almost like the ghost of a voice, but it startled her nonetheless. Her head whipped to the side, taking in the sight of a man standing a few feet away from her.

He seemed to be doing the same thing as she was, admiring the stadium with wide eyes and his hands stuffed in the front pockets of his jeans. He looked so young and curious, despite his tall height and the dark brown stubble growing on the lower half of his face.

She quickly regained the ability to speak, barely skipping a beat, and replied with a "Yeah, it is". He glanced at her briefly, turning his head away like he was afraid to look at her. "Night games are my favorite", He began, "the lights, the crowd... everything seems so... electric, you know?" He still spoke in that soft voice, barely above a whisper.

She sighed quietly, not quite loud enough for him to hear. "I haven't been to a game since I was young. I don't remember the feeling", She answered steadily, with a tinge of sadness that was nearly impossible to decipher.

"U-um. I can get you tickets if you want? Next homestand? I mean, you don't have to go, I understand I'm a stranger and all and I don't know why you'd want-" She decided to save him from further embarrassment, so she held up her hand and smiled politely. He was shy, but it was cute in a way. And why not go? It had the potential to be fun.

She grabbed his hand and reached in her purse to grab a pen. Carefully she scribbled ten digits and some letters onto his palm. She flashed a heart-melting smile when she glanced back at him over her shoulder as she walked away. He was looking down at his palm and mouthing the syllables of the name written there. Cora.