Mr. Heevil

The blue blur of the Florida bound bus distracted Mr. Heevil. He had been making out contorted patterns among the frosted windows. Watching the giant vehicular transport specialist zip by recalled to Mr. Heevil the day or game against Trenton when the hockey puc slapped him across the face, ricocheting off his panic-swung stick, and passed the goalie. Remembering that day gave Mr. Heevil the chuckles every time.