Home Country
By Slim Randles
“Kids got the kites up this morning down at the schoolyard,” Dud said, slipping into his chair and flipping his coffee mug to the upright and fillable position in one smooth move.
Doc nodded and spread jam on his toast. He likes grape.
“Any special shapes this year?”
“Didn’t see any,” Dud said. “Same old diamond shapes, mostly.”
“Now back when I was a kid,” Herb chimed in, “we had box kites, too. Sometimes…”
Doc grinned. “Never could make one of them. Too complicated. Just got those diamond ones, because they came almost ready to fly.”