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Scribblings  by Baylor

One year Sam planted a whole field of strawberries, and when they were so ripe and red and beautiful that one's hand would reach for them with its own will, the children ate until their hands and mouths were sticky with sweet juices, and their bellies round, and they flopped on the grass, unable to eat another bite.

“You’d think they’d get tired of the taste and want something else,” Rose said.

“I shall never tire of the taste of strawberries,” Hamfast said from Sam’s lap. “Will you, Dad?”

“Never,” Sam said, and happily accepted the berry Hamfast offered up.  

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