Orchards

He didn’t know what to make of the kid, not now, sitting across from her teacher, and not at home either. It didn’t seem serious, but the spinster across from him seemed to think it was.

So what if the kid drew people with windows for eyes? She’s seven.

He was up for apples, an expression he was pretty sure meant he’d had his kids later in life, and didn’t have the energy for these kinds of conversations. He told the teacher the drawings seemed fine. Hell, it was a little poetic, if literal, now that he thought about it.

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