The rule was "ever-who-hits-it-goes-and-gits-it".
More often than not we would get caught red-handed
by a rapid rat-a-tat-tat from her first floor window
or by Mrs Mac's loud shout of "get off my wall".
We were kids and all we wanted was our football.
We reckoned that her house was in the wrong place
next to our field and that it wasn't her wall at all,
she had just claimed it to spite us and spoil our game,
and that she loathed kids and hated seeing us play,
convinced we were there just to ruin her day.
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