We're walking on the brook path.
Mom,
Carly,
Me.
We stop to listen to birds chirp,
climb big rocks
have picnics.
The sun shines a friendly glow
on our backs,
our smiles even brighter.
Gentle breezes whispering to the trees.
Carly finds the perfect stick.
Thick but not wide.
Short but stubby.
Easy to see but light enough to travel.
Racing to the middle of the creaking bridge
and she lets go.
The perfect stick flies through the air.
I don't know if it's forward or backward
upside down or rightside up.
It's constantly turning while
cutting through the breeze.
Then it hits the water.
And keeps going.
Rushing to the
other side of the bridge
we see it traveling through.
"Again! Again! Again!"
We do it again and again and again.
Until mom tells us to
"stop, we have to get going"
Each time Carly found a perfect stick.
So perfect
I could've sworn it was the same one.
Now I realize it was.
YOU ARE READING
Carly's Friends
Mystery / ThrillerThe Haines family has never been perfect, and the neighbors in their tightly knit community know this. It's common knowledge that Mr. Haines is a workaholic, and that Mrs. Haines can be over dramatic. They know that their oldest daughter, Hannah, do...
