Late for School

James stands to follow me, as I retrieve a leather jacket from the coat rack.

I’m pulling the front door open when I hear James behind me, “Do you need these?” My house keys dangle from his hand. As I try to snatch them, he pulls his hand away.

“What?” I snap. The question sends him into a fit of laughter.

“Well, I am a city boy,” he says between chuckles, “and I have never actually seen a decapitated chicken, but I imagine this is exactly what it looks like running around all headless.” He waves is hands for effect.

“Ha, ha,” I push him out the front door.

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