“Is that your phone?” I asked her. “No, it’s Elliot’s,” she answered. I was walking my neighborhood with my three kids and a neighbor boy. It was a beautiful fall day. We had stopped to play at a big willow tree with a hill they could roll down and she had scooted by on her roller skates. She was a good kid. Seven years old. My kids had played with her before.
A Boy and His Phone
A Boy and His Phone
A Boy and His Phone
“Is that your phone?” I asked her. “No, it’s Elliot’s,” she answered. I was walking my neighborhood with my three kids and a neighbor boy. It was a beautiful fall day. We had stopped to play at a big willow tree with a hill they could roll down and she had scooted by on her roller skates. She was a good kid. Seven years old. My kids had played with her before.