Seven young children inveted a game. They played it for years to come. Others joined, they came and went. But the game belonged to the seven.

Take the ball. Run. Throw. Run. Catch. Score. Wait. Tag. Run. Bounce, bounce, bounce.

As they grew up, the game became more important. When the world became too much, there was the game. When love ended, there was the game. When times were hard, there was the game. When people died.

But when jealousy came into the group, the game broke. Suspicion and envy took root. Rules were forgotten. Violence gripped the players. The ball was lost.

And now the ball sits beside a rail. Dirty, discarded and deflating. If any of the seven were to see the ball now, years later, it would reduce them to tears.

That tainted symbol of innocence thrown away.