Their secondhand sneakers made soft crunching sounds in the dry leaves scattered over the lawn.

The dark oil stains that had covered my driveway three days before were all gone, scrubbed out with blue brushes and hot water.

I ran the broom bristles along the narrow crack where the bottom porch step met the concrete walk.

The stiff straw caught on something hard wedged deep in the crack.

I bent down and scraped the wooden broom handle along the seam in the concrete.

Noah stopped running and came up the steps, tugging at his socks as he stood beside me.