These are the days you dream about.
Wake up. Play in the backyard pointing and screaming every time a plane passes over head. First one to spot it wins an unstated prize. Take a long cool walk passing retired pumpkins rotting curbside. Get a warm drink. Stroll home slowly staring at the way the leaves fade from orange to red to green to brown to ground. Meet a nice woman and her dog.
Lunch as a family. Nap as a family. Wake up and play. Eat. Play some more. Laugh and laugh and laugh until your stomach hurts and you don't quite remember why you're laughing anymore.
These are the days you dream about.
These are the days made for dreamers.
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