Helga gave her seat to the little boy who was climbing on the backs of all the other chairs. By the time she had pulled up another nice chair to sit alongside him, he was already monkeying around on that one. Ah well, there's no sense in trying to alter youth. Instead, she pulled out old pair of crochet hooks she kept in her bag and got to work on a project she had started a long time ago.
The boy was apparently named Izzie, and he was here to visit his grandpa Chase. She knew Chase, but so did everybody; he had quite the personality for making friends. She had met his son, too, though she couldn't remember his name. Ezra, the boy said, proud to know his father's first name. He went on that his mother's name was Bernice, and gave Helga a full spectrum of trivial information about his family, where they live, what kinds of restaurants they go to, how they celebrated his last birthday, and other things that allowed Helga to idly smile while she passed the time and crochet.
The boy was apparently named Izzie, and he was here to visit his grandpa Chase. She knew Chase, but so did everybody; he had quite the personality for making friends. She had met his son, too, though she couldn't remember his name. Ezra, the boy said, proud to know his father's first name. He went on that his mother's name was Bernice, and gave Helga a full spectrum of trivial information about his family, where they live, what kinds of restaurants they go to, how they celebrated his last birthday, and other things that allowed Helga to idly smile while she passed the time and crochet.
Is this the same Ezra, I wonder?
ReplyDelete