He serves: I’m working late
She returns: Sounds good. I think I’ll go out, myself
He lobs: Who are you going with?
She returns: Why does it matter?
He stretches, just manages: You might be in an accident. I should know where to look.
She returns to the far corner: So I can stop into the office and see you this evening?
He turns too slowly, can’t reach far enough: Uh.
Zero love.
#NaPoWriMo prompt 16 about a game.
(Still writing poems that connect with my current novel writing project)
Shawn L. Bird 
Love what you’ve done here!
Love it! Particularly the love zero outcome!
Excellent. The game of Life!