Nulla dies sine linea. Four sentences every day. About whatever happened that day. Most of it's even true. Written by Scott Lee Williams
Tuesday, July 5, 2016
After the (somewhat disappointing and soggy) fireworks die down, Katie hands me a cherry. "Quick, eat this for me and give me the pit," she says, and I do, because she hates cherries, and she takes it and runs away.
Later, at home, she shows me a sizable welt on her shin. When I ask what happened, she explains, "We were spitting cherry pits off the roof, and I whacked my leg on the railing, but I hit the building across the street!"