Page 7 - Papa
P. 7
Papa
The house appeared through the small part, but
something about it was strange. Everything around
the house seemed still.
There was no smoke coming from her
grandmother’s kitchen above the house and no
one had come to meet her. She stopped to rub
Miss Betsey, her grandmother’s faithful donkey.
This was what she missed, none of her friends had
her experiences and she couldn’t wait to boast
about what she had done for her summer.
She called out to her grandmother, but there was
no answer. “Where could they be?” She thought, as
she stepped up the cement blocks leading to the
front door.
She could hear her grandma’s soft creak coming
towards the door as it swung open.
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