John
This summer I walked behind John in the woods. I followed him as he followed the trail. “Flies are getting bad,” he’d grumble, reaching for the tobacco in his pocket. I quickened my step whenever John puffed on his pipe, …
This summer I walked behind John in the woods. I followed him as he followed the trail. “Flies are getting bad,” he’d grumble, reaching for the tobacco in his pocket. I quickened my step whenever John puffed on his pipe, …