543 Day Writing Journey

Seeds. Day 157.

“Where’s Sammy?” I asked Roger.

“He’s in the garden,” he said, nonchalantly.

There he was, not quite two years-old, wearing a Luv’s diaper, bright yellow rain boots, and a little Coppertone. His hair was cartoon blonde and his skin was summer brown. His cheeks were puffed out tight and his eyes were smiling at me, filled with mischief.

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