White with a purple stripe, the twelve is the striped counterpart of the solid four ball. In this specimen’s photographic record, it appears repeatedly at the very edge of a pocket—close enough to falling in that gravity seems to have abandoned it.

The Twelve has spent much of its life on the edge: of the pocket, of success, and occasionally of everyone’s patience. It doesn’t consider this indecision. There is a very small piece of table between being nearly pocketed and actually pocketed, and the twelve intends to use all of it.