Penny
Chester stood at the bottom of his porch steps. He rubbed his toes in the soggy, brown stretch of mud that should have been his front yard. Three months of rain had left it as soft as fresh bread and the dogs had made a game of digging in the mud. He spat on one of his black and brown beagles as it splashed by in front of him, on the heels of a little gray rabbit.
“Too much rain this year. Everything’s drowning.”
“Too much rain this year. Everything’s drowning.”
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