Shay lay jaguar-style on the largest branch in the tree in her backyard. The branch was at least 7 feet long, and at least 5 and a half feet of it was really thick- about twice as wide as the thickest point of your arm. She had a rope swing attached to that branch, and it was sticking uncomfortably into her stomach. She was lying up there because (strictly speaking) she was not supposed to, and also because she wanted a peaceful place to read her book. Unfortunately, it wasn’t very peaceful. There were sounds of a catfight, a dog barking at the cats, a car horn honking at another car, and some drunk people yelling at a party next door. Shay sighed. Other than that, it was a beautiful summer evening- the pale peach sky was tinted with highlights of lilac, and the slight breeze brought to Shay’s nose the scent of late-blooming roses.
Speaking of scents, while she was sniffing, Shay caught a whiff of her mother’s brownies- the most delicious brownies she had ever tasted. Shay sat upright, clenched her book in her teeth, and shimmied 10 feet down to the ground. She weaved her way past the wisteria, the cleomes, and the roses, and arrived at the back of the house just in time to see her mother stick her head out the back door and yell, “Shay! Brownies!”
Shay smiled. “I’m right here, you know; I could smell them across the yard! And you don’t have to shout, I would have been able to hear you anyway if you hadn’t. What are the brownies for?”
“To eat, of course!”
That made them both laugh.
(I have a lot more of this story in my notebook. Sorry- I never got around to putting it on the computer.)
No comments:
Post a Comment