I was on vacation and am in the process of catching up. Here is the 7th installment of my son’s fiction blog series.
May plopped into her desk chair and stared out her room window. Now that school was over, she had taken a temporary job as a store clerk for the summer. It had been an especially long day and all she wanted to do was relax. She let her mind rest as she stared blankly out into the Maine countryside.
After a few moments, May sighed and pulled out her journal. She reached for her pen.
Monday, June 18, 1917
“May!” Mrs. Branson’s voice called from downstairs, interrupting her writing.
May sighed again and placed the pen next to the book. Going out of the room and to the top of the stairs, she called back, “Yes?”
“Richie’s here to see you, dear,” Mrs. Branson replied with the hint of a smile in her voice…. (Read more)