It is July 4. I smell the smoke of the hot dogs grilling. I hear the blazing booms of fireworks and the whistling of the wind. The leaves on trees rustle and I taste rich, cold, creamy ice cream in my mouth. I see salad, fruit kabobs, chicken legs, mashed potatoes, hot dogs, and hamburgers covering the table. Little insects crawl on my toes making me giggle and squeal.
Pitter, patter, pitter, patter is the sound of raindrops tinkling in song. Lightning strikes. I scream and laugh. We look up at a thousand stars and felt the warm, wet rain on our necks.
It’s time for bed. Goodnight stars, goodnight moon. Goodnight to the world as it whispers—
See you soon . . .
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