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97 DAYS OF SUMMER

Andre’ peered out from his bedroom window, the summer sun beating down warmly on his tired old face. At ninety-seven, he didn’t much care. He enjoyed watching the children skipping, giggling and waiting for the bell of the ice cream van.

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Every time, the girls would drop their skipping ropes and run to the sound. In the background, birds flew from tree to tree. Andre’ remembered those summer days as if it were yesterday.

“Time for your medicine, Andre’,” said the home care nurse.

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Andre’ turned in his wheelchair and took his medication. He knew any day now, he’d never see those children play again.

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