burn

This boy had a birthday.

We had to celebrate. So we went out a little ways, not quite all the way up a hill, and turned right. We walked down a path past the scary dog, past the little dock with the great view and and the blue boat filled with plants, until we came to a stoney hill. Then we followed the path through the woods, past the cement home of candles and the man who choose the sea until we found the rocks.

And we built him a fire.

... ate smores ...

 ... sang songs ...

... and let him sit next to the prettiest girl.

I like birthdays.