I drove past my dad’s house on Monday after lunch with Fritz. We did a loop down the alley and up the street a few times. I stopped in front for a couple minutes to reminisce.
“Fritz…. At one point in my life… this house was the safest place I could be.”
I have a recurring dream that I’m trespassing at 220 South Lombard. Only to find out my dad never sold it and it’s alright to take a quick nap.
Time to go make George’s lunch. No smile on the sun today Chalkheads… you’ll need to dream one up on your own.
