By: Yvette J.
The sun was high in the sky as Paul Forrester drove towards a small, quiet town.
His son, Scott, was asleep in the passenger seat, his soft sighs filling the solitude of the car.
As the teenager was waking up, he blinked the sleep out of his eyes and tried to focus on what was going on around them. “Where are we, Dad?” he asked as he rubbed his eyes.
“Mason Valley, North Dakota, population…” His voice trailed off as his son yawned. “Are you still tired?”
“Nah, it’s just really quiet, not like in Seattle or LA,” Scott said as he stretched uncomfortably in his seat. “I love small towns; they are so friendly and neighborly.
Somehow big cities lack that sort of charm.”
Paul nodded, “are you hungry?”
“I thought you’d never ask,” Scott said licking his lips. One thing about small towns that the teenager liked was the good home-cooked meals that could be had at local diners.
“Can we stop at some place that doesn’t have ‘billions served’ on the sign please? I’m sick of fast food. The center of town should have some good possibilities.
” He looked at his father expectantly, all the while hoping that Paul would say ‘yes’ to his suggestion.
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