Houses of Bounce

[dropcap]I[/dropcap]’m walking to the end of the road to get the mail, and I see a bouncy-house in someone’s yard at the end of the street.

I look left. I look right. No one’s around.

I bounce like I’m five years old. I almost broke my knee trying to do a somersault.

“Excuse me sir,” she said. “Can I help you.”

She stood with her hands on her hips.

“No Ma’am,” I slid down the bouncy-slide. “No one can help me.”

I slid my boots on and wished the woman a Merry Christmas.

She did not reciprocate.

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