He leaned back on his pillow, opened his hardcover book about train engines, and started reading to himself without another question.

I laid the roller in the plastic tray and wiped a tiny dot of blue paint off the tip of my index finger.

At noon I went downstairs to the kitchen to rinse the tray under the faucet.

The sink ran clear, the water swirling down the drain without a trace of rust or old dirt.

At two in the afternoon Grace came across the shared lawn with two tall glass jars of fresh iced tea, lemon slices floating by the ice.

We sat side by side in the wooden rocking chairs on the front porch while the breeze stirred the tops of the maples.