by Raymond Alexander Kukkee
Sunshine splattered on grass and worn sandy paths interrupted by fluttering shadows of leaves. Echoes of children’s voices crossed the playground fleetingly, staccato, sharp, and persistent in the warm air.
“Time to go and play” he said out loud, “Mommy won’t mind”. George said, reaching for the latch on the gate.
“Tommy will be there, and Billie, all the kids, to play baseball”, he smiled, pushing the gate open.
“Be there in a minute, boys!” he shouted.
“No baseball today George! You’re 96 today, we’re having a party!” the pretty nurse said, pushing his wheelchair into the bright sunshine.