Tinkering with a story…
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The rust settled into the tines of each wheel, crept along the base, andinched its way to the white handle gripped tightly by five pudgy fingers. It had been his grandfather’s wagon first, pristine red metal and wooden grating, before his father’s.

Now it was his.

Flakes of oxidized metal rained as the wagon was dragged up the hill. Soon, it would fulfill its potential.

Just as it had for his father, and his father before him.

Radio Flyers were born to fly.

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It’s reminiscent of the movie with the two brothers, but I want to tell a very different tale… just not sure where I’m going to take it yet. Putting it on here so I don’t delete it

Happy writing/reading/dreaming,

– Victoria Elizabeth