Bob opened his car’s trunk and pulled out two Frisbees. “Are you ready!” he asked Andy.
“Ready for what?” Andy asked. “Did we drive all the way out here to toss Frisbees?”
“We are at the city’s only official disc golf course,” Bob said.
“What is disc golf?” Andy asked.
“It’s like regular golf, except with Frisbees rather than clubs and balls,” Bob explained. “Follow me,” he said.
They walked to a pole with chains hanging from a ring on top. “This contraption is the hole. The object is to get the disc into this basket with the fewest tosses.”
Written for this week’s Friday Fictioneers prompt from Rachel Wisoff-Fields. Photo credit: Douglas M. MacIlroy.