#111361 - I push the lawnmower out of the shed and lift it over the fence and then climb over, I push the lawnmower to the front grass, whistling a tuneless melody and uncoil the power cord, walking to the front door I knock, expecting the youngest to open, he’s around four years old and doesn’t look anything like the rest of the family, he has sandy colored hair, light brown eyes and freckles all over his nose and cheeks. Sounds strange? It’s easy to explain, my parents own both houses and the lawnmower is one of the things that are used by both families. I slowly drink the juice starting to feel a bit better, when I’m done she takes the glass from me and go back inside, I wonder why she didn’t talk to me, but dismissed it with a shrug.
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