Trees reached their leafy fingers up through the hot summer air. Cold mist hung above, swirling in the playful clouds. They looked like giant ghosts dancing in the endless sky. A light wind began to caress my face with its cool fingers. The thunder rumbling in the distance persuaded me to squeeze my wife’s hand, “I think your right, we should bring our rain jackets to the fireworks show.”
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Copyright © 2019 Zachary W. Gilbert
Zachary W Gilbert, Author 