Turkey in the Snow
““Uncle Hank!” she told him, her eyes wide and her jaw jutting out like she was angry, “Somebody highbacked my room!” Hank blinked a good five or six times and finally figured out what she talking about. “Don’t you like your highbacked room?” he asked. What time was it? It took him a moment to make sense of the numbers on the clock, and when he did, he fell back against his pillows, squinting against the light coming from her hallway. “Great googly-moogly, angel—it’s five in the morning! You usu...ally sleep until seven!” “The smell woke me up,” Josie said, her cheeks scrunched. “The color is pretty, but I don’t like the smell!” Oh hells. The smell. “It’ll go away in a few days. It’s the paint, Josie. Is that the only thing you don’t like, or can I go back to sleep now?” “Why did you change my bedroom?” she asked, and Hank rolled to his side and looked at her.MoreLess
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