The sun beat down on the small suburban park in which all the local children spent their summers. Their laughter rang out among the trees and trickling brook that surrounded the minute playground. The cement path that wound its way around the child-size structures was lined with park benches, all desperately in need of a new paint job. These benches were filled with the mothers and babysitters forced to sit waiting for their charges to finally tire and be ready to lay down for their naps. ~excerpt from short story
The Tuxedo Archives: Vol. 2009
, Article 12.
Available at: http://scholar.dominican.edu/tuxedolit/vol2009/iss1/12