“How much further?” my grandson asked me again.
“We have a ways yet. Why don’t you take a nap?”
“I’m not tired” he replied with a loud sigh.
“There sure not much to look at on this drive” he stated.
“No, not here” I agreed.
“Who do you suppose lives there?” he asked incredulously, pointing to a lone house wedged into the side of the hill. It’s brown hue, blending in with its surroundings.
“Hmmm.. I don’t know. Who do you think?” I asked, hoping to spark his imagination.
“Someone who doesn’t like people” he replied. “Maybe a writer.
Or a murderer!”