Rough-Hewn

In a bustling turn‑of‑the‑century neighborhood, a lanky lad named Neale saves every penny to buy a glossy new shinny stick, dreaming of roaring down Central Avenue with it in hand. The street is a patchwork of mud‑slicked lots and uneven macadam, where boys turn the pavement into a makeshift arena for a rough version of hockey that’s as wild as it is simple.

When Neale finally joins the fray, the heavy club feels both a blessing and a burden, tripping him at first but soon carving a place for him among the scrappy teams. The game erupts into a tumble of sticks, shouted commands, and the clang of worn stone curbs, while alliances shift and the boys chase a rubber ball with fierce, unpolished enthusiasm. Through the chaos, Neale discovers the joy of belonging and the thrill of testing his new weapon against the street’s unyielding rhythm.