The Word


[ dih-spawrt, –spohrt ]


  1. Enjoy oneself unrestrainedly.
  2. Frolic.

Let’s write…

** Either a story beginning, a story ending, a piece of flash fiction, a poem, painting, dance move—inspired by the word, disport, where does it take me? Where does it take you?

It doesn’t really matter in the end, does it? All those times we think over and debate over the minutia of life, in the end, we all die. Wow, that’s dark! Maybe true, but dark. I’d like to think of myself as an optimist, a positive person overall. It’s just how you look at things. I see our inevitable deaths as something like permission to run free. 

For instance: do I eat dessert, or do I worry it’s too unhealthy? I eat dessert! I engorge myself on life, period. 

 That’s kind of where all this trouble started for me. A bit too much disporting, and not enough “getting down to business.” Tell me this, why do people prefer to look at misery, darkness, troubles, and pain? Is it a human condition? Or a conditioning of the human mind? I’m not sure, but the fact of the matter is this–people who enjoy life tend to get the extreme judgment from those who don’t. 

I’m supposed to be telling you a story, right? Let me get to it already!

A sunny day, a bright blue sky…

… and the first warm day of spring where we can all wear shorts and t-shirts. And it’s the weekend! The perfect recipe for some adventure. That’s how it started. 

 I left my house early in the morning, just after I finished breakfast to meet some friends at the park. We ran around playing soccer, and then kick-ball. Everyone was sweaty. 

 “Back it up!” John yelled, pointing to the sky. “I’m going for the fence.” 

 “You won’t reach it,” Tyler said from the pitcher’s mound. “Not a chance.” 

John didn’t respond, just crouched a little in anticipation of the rolling ball to be hurled his way. I was at the first base, ready for anything. Tyler rolled the ball, putting some spin on it, and John stepped forward and kicked with all his might–a little too much might. John slipped and sliced the ball, which shot towards me and then curved further away off the field. 

 The ball went over a fence, but not the one John intended. It bounced in the parking lot, and then out into the main road. All we heard next were screeching tires, followed by a loud slam


I think there’s a story here about how we tend to squash out the playfulness in children to turn them into “mature adults.” There’s no time to “disport.”

As I wrote, I imagined a story of this young girl who is happy and loves life and the journey of adults around her who keep telling her to grow up.

We’d start to see this playfulness die a little, but, ultimately, I’d like the story to turn back around towards this main character understanding this loss and seeking to get it back.

So, maybe this brief beginning above is a flashback to a moment when her life was changed? The moment when the world began its squandering of fun and joy. Then, the story could follow the present-day woman trying to get it back. A story with two timelines.

The young girl losing her innocence, and following the typical societal “norms” and the effect on her psychology and overall well-being. Then, the present-day timeline of the woman aiming to revert back to the child-like wonder she once had.

It’s an interesting flip of the typical “coming of age” story, I think. This time, maturity is returning back to elements of our child-like state.

What do you think of Disport?

Is this a story worth pursuing? Want to write it yourself? Go for it! Take an idea and run with it. That’s what they’re here for!

Leave your thoughts, your own story beginning, or flash-fiction writing in the comments! Where does disport take you? Just let your mind run!

If you liked this story, check out my podcast of short stories, More Than A Story.

Today’s word is from Merriam-Webster.

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