I was sitting on the curb in the Spar parking lot, a bike at my feet, talking with Ati – my favourite precocious seven-year old.
He deserved an ice cream after a bike ride to the shops (although I might have deserved the treat more, I did run beside his bike after all).
I laughed as he tried catching the drips running down his hand, “It’s nice,” he said.
And so we people watched together, discussing life’s great questions, like “why does that man have no front teeth?”
A perfect start to summer.