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Missing summer

July 12, 2009

In ordinary time, we skipped marbles across sidewalks, the summer blacktop softening under the pressure of our hands and knees. Losing an aggie or a bumblebee was tragedy then, one less smooth ball to slip back in our pockets. On summer nights, now, we sit on our porch, staring out at the front yard with sweating beers in our hands, imagining how much more fun we’d be having if someone would just say, “Not it.”

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