Mom and Dad took them on a different path than usual, through an creaking metal gate, and up a hill of cut grass in the middle of a forest. It was quiet except for their footsteps, the whistling birds and buzzing of insects hiding amongst the thickets of grass that wound along the base of the tree trunks. They passed a sleeping old man’s face pushing out from a tree, and a fairy ring of mushrooms. They walked quietly until they came to a crossroads in their path. Mom and Dad looked to Addie, and then George.
“Where should we go today?”
It seemed, they thought, they could go anywhere.
where stories bloom and dreams take root