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cherry

Precocious - Opening Paragraph(s)

The cherry trees were like mom said.
The lady who let them in the house called herself Simone. The hallway was wide enough for the three of them to walk side by side into the TV room. Shasta saw the fireplace made with pink marble that filled one wall; another wall was all glass. Then she and mom stepped through french doors, down the steps, where the branches extended out as if they wanted to shake hands.
Simone had to steer her onto a safe piece of ground, because her shoes were white. "The juice ruined my sandals," she explained. "I told him, get someone to pick this fruit if you can't eat it."
"He does like cherries," mom remarked.
"Why doesn't he buy them?" Shasta asked.
Simone shrugged. She had bare shoulders and they were nice to watch moving. "Rick said to me, 'I like to watch them bud and ripen in my own garden'."
Mom laughed. "But he buys them too."
"Exactly. Now how crazy is that? Anyway, Irene," Simone touched mom's arm, "we've got lots of games set up for the kids."
She pointed to their left, because the cherry trees divided the garden into sections. The larger half had a trampoline, two hopscotch squares, a swing set, a sandbox, a lot of big tubes you could crawl through and a playhouse. Two boys were playing with remote control cars.

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January 2015

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