i remember when we first started playing billiards, the table was camouflaged under an old, dusty cloth, as if it was hiding its potential for joy and competition. we had to begin from the start, learning how to hold the cue, aiming, and understanding the rules—things that now seem pre-indicative of the countless hours we'd spend cheerfully competing and clarifying rules we once misunderstood. and throughout, we learned to close ears to the outside world, finding solace and friendship over the green felt that once camouflaged our future memories.