Growing up, I had acres of farmland to explore. While my body never left the top of grandpa’s hundred-year-old oak tree, my mind traveled the world, time, and space. While my only friends might have been several dozen dejected cows and impetuous chickens, I knew many charming and courageous characters, all of which I longed to be.
Anyone but me.
Cindy M. Jones ~ Stories for Readers, Tips for Writers