With the windows open, a breeze carries the sounds of squeaking tricycle wheels and plastic dump truck dumpings in from the back yard. Voices giggle spring, echoing grass and tomato plants and snails and beetles against the walls. The sun sits low while a bike bell tings. The grill is cool: today I have bucket chicken on the table, waiting for little hands to grasp drumsticks tight. I’ll have to close the windows soon, or dinner will be cold.
Many more days like this, please.
2 thoughts on “Afternoon”
It's scenarios like this that I'd take the bucket of chicken outside and we'd eat while lying in the hammock.
Puts arms on windowsill, and chin on hands, and hopes for many more words like these, please. Thank you for the glimpse. Paint another?
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