Mr. Vance wasn’t much of a conversationalist.
Apparently, as far as Noah was concerned, that settled the matter.
Mr. Vance wasn’t much of a conversationalist.
Sometimes I would see Noah finish the lawn, wipe his forehead with his shirt, and stand by the porch.
Mr. Vance might say three words.
Noah might say two.
“What did you two talk about?”
Then Noah would come home.
“What did you two talk about?” I’d ask.
“Nothing.”
“You stood there for ten minutes.”
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