Harvard Ping Pong Table Novels & Stories

I say, a little embarrassed tipping my chin down to hide my flushed cheeks. "Aww" he coos making it even worst. Once again, I cursed my paleness which heats up at the hint of the slightest embarrassment. “Okay, people, let the champ though, let me show you how it’s done,” Marc says though there was no one in front of him as he sets to arrange the red solo cups on the table making a few people gather around the table. He shows me a yellow ping pong ball in his hand, then turns to face the table, Marc does an exaggerated hand movement before letting the ball fly, it bounces once, twice then lands in one of the cups.

This was the best table in the entire place. “Champagne?” Charles offered as we took our seats at the comfortable lounge table. The table was round and made of reflective glass, while two benches wrapped around it. The seats were velvety and helped insulate from the sound below us so we could hold a conversation. Two bottles of Dom Perignon were waiting for us. I nodded, completely impressed.

The woman let out a chortle. “I’m pretty expensive, you know. That money alone wouldn’t be enough!” Harvey tapped on the woman’s perky butt before smiling. “I’ll have to play until I get enough then! “You’ll have to stay with me for the night!” Then, Harvey went over to a table in the main hall before throwing a stack of chips forward. “Big and Small? “I’ll go big! I’m a big man, after all!” A few hunks with the smell of gunpowder around the table were all wrapping their arms around their companions.

I try to smile, but show a little of a grimace. All of the sweaty and drunk teens sardined together calls for claustrophobia. "Come on, it'll be fun. I promise." He squeezes my hand. "Please." He pouts, giving me the puppy dog eyes. How can I say no to that? "Okay." I sigh, letting him direct me to the center of the crowd. A ping pong table covered in red plastic cups is the main attention. People bounce balls on the table and into the cups, some liquid splashing out as the ball goes in.

The Hale Fortress. The Dining Room. Wednesday. 8:15 PM. The dining table was made of two-hundred-year-old mahogany, usually reserved for state dinners and hostile takeovers. Tonight, it was covered in twenty-five greasy cardboard boxes from "Luigi’s Pizza Palace." Oryn (Modern Oryn) walked around the table, refilling drinks with the expression of a man who was questioning every life choice that had led him to this moment. "More wine?" Oryn asked the woman in the pinstripe suit.

My eyes trailed to the 64 inch television hanging on the wall displaying varieties of channels, the complete home theater sound system that could blast the entire wall street out of their houses, then the dining table. It had twenty-four chairs! Is this a conference table because that's exactly how the dining looked. The round glass table was enough to host fifty people in a ball. I noticed the glass table wasn't transparent but opaque glass. Hmm, looks like someone is intelligent. "...and this is Miss Hailey Parker, my bride." I snapped my head back to the little group just in time to hear grumpy's last words. A stupid feeling blossomed in my heart. He had called me his bride, that stupid i

Pearl “Where are we going?” I asked Harold, as he led us through a doorway. The doorway was makeshift. Inside the structure looked to be a office. There was a table and chair. Files and documents were stacked neatly on the table surface. Aside from that, the walls and the floors still had a long way to go in terms of construction. “Is this your office?” I asked, approaching the desk. I ran my fingers along the table’s edge. “This table’s nearly stacked, so I’m guessing it’s yours?”

Julian then strode toward a sleek table at the side of the hall. Only then did Dustin notice that the venue was equipped with various setups clearly intended for entertainment. Julian stopped at a narrow platform with a series of ten holes of varying sizes at one end. “Ordinary folks have their own games, while those of higher standing play at a different level,” Julian said loftily. Someone brought over ten iron marbles. Each was identical in size.

On each of the table had a student name and number written boldly on a wooden plaque. The hall had a lot of windows, opened, letting in enough light to brighten up the hall. Light bulbs were installed on the ceiling, directly above each table, but none needed to be on at the moment. Especially with the sunny rays invading the massive kitchen. Like every one else, I walk in and trace my name to the third table at the middle row. My table has two gas rings on the right hand side of it, a stopwatch close to the gas rings and a white and yellow apron with my table number 008 written on it.

Perched in the far corner was a small television with about thirty metal folding chairs placed all around it. The kids were sitting in the chairs, crowded around it, and you could tell that only the ones in the front row had a good view of the thing. I glanced around. In the corner was an old Ping-Pong table. The surface was cracked and dusty, the net nowhere to be seen. A couple of empty Styrofoam cups sat on top of it, and I knew it hadn't been used in months, maybe years. Along the wall next to