The municipal badminton lawn opened a little earlier than usual, so the shuttlecocks could collect their landing circles before anyone served. Each circle was the size of a biscuit lid. The feathers sat on them as if on tiny stools.
The park keeper pinned a card to the post: please wait for the nod; the net is taking attendance. A woman with a thermos said the white shuttlecock had greeted her racket twice and then settled, once, as if that were the whole lesson.
The next morning the same pair came back. They stood still until the net finished nodding, then played one gentle rally and went to buy jam.