The Wordsmiths Book 2021

MOPH

The wind is cold, but the sun hot. The baby sleeps so we build our castle quickly. A dragon sits in front of the gates to the Queen’s palace and my daughter runs to the water to fill a bucket and bring it back for the moat, her long legs kicking tufts of sand. I scrape the road, smooth the turrets, and dig with my hands, the sand grating my fingers soothingly. The red bucket tips abruptly and the bridge is almost lost. The water melts into the sand immediately but the joy lasts.

Mr. Patrick George

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