Yanis kicked his scuffed blue ball hard against the warm stone wall of the plaza. It rocketed straight up — too high — and landed on the low mosque garden wall with a soft thud.
He stared up at it, arms too short to reach. His shoulders dropped as the call to prayer hummed in the distance.
Yanis ran to the fountain and tried to bounce his ball off the stone rim. It splashed into the water and floated away.
He waded in with his socks squishing, retrieved the wet ball, and wrung it out with a frustrated puff of air.
Yanis set his ball down and aimed for a low brick target. But his kicks kept rolling wide.
He watched a tall player on the shop window TV leap impossibly high. Yanis tried jumping too — landing with a wobble and a huff.
The boy on the screen leaped impossibly high. Yanis jumped too — landing with a wobble and a huff.
Yanis spotted a narrow gap between two market stalls and decided to try something different. Instead of kicking hard, he tapped the ball gently.
He tapped the ball through the gap like a snake. It looped perfectly back to his feet. His eyes went wide, and he grinned so big his cheeks hurt.
Yanis drew a small line in the dust, ran up, and kicked. The ball soared in a perfect arc toward the distant minaret, then curved back down right at his feet.