I’m not truly convinced it is summer until the apple tree is the perfect shade of sunrise-pink. And then I climb into the branches and wait for you to come home.
The pitcher threw, the batter swung clumsily, and the bat flew from the player’s inept hands and soared across the crowded stadium at frightening speed.
The spinning rod flew into the stands and the panicked spectators rushed for safety, except for Jim, who looked up from his new video game three seconds too late to see the flying bat moving towards him and at that moment Jim painfully discovered that the new IPad 2 does not make a good shield against fast-moving projectiles.
I bought the aged sofa and set it out on my veranda, ready for a good summer.
In winter, while throwing it away, I found the earring she accused me of stealing down the back of the cushions.