He’d thrown the ball up several times – higher, then a little higher – when he succeeded in throwing it up with such determination that it failed to come back down. It was as if the ball, having reached its zenith, just sort of hung there. Daniel brought a hand up to his eyes to shield them from the sun. Stood and stared at the ball, as if it might suddenly change its mind and head back towards the ground. But it stayed most stubbornly where it was, until finally Daniel went indoors and climbed the stairs right up to the attic, to see if he could get a better view of it from there. He opened the dormer window and, sure enough, there it was, about ten or twelve feet away. The ball didn’t appear to be stuck as such, since he could see from the marks on its side how it slowly turned on its own axis. In fact, the ball seemed perfectly happy where it was. Daniel pulled his head back in from the window, then went round the attic, looking for something to throw at it, to try and dislodge the thing.
