A Spark Of Hope
The young boy gazed longingly out the window and wished desperately that the rain would come to an end. He yearned to go out and play and explore. But since his arrival in LA, gray sheets of precipitation seemed to be the ten-year-old's constant companion. His mood, already somber, darkened a bit more when he remembered once again why he was now living here with his aunt rather than back on the reservation. Johnny missed home and was afraid he'd never fit in here in the city.
The thin, lanky child sighed as he pushed his dark hair back off his forehead. Then with a long, elegant finger, he traced a rivulet of water as it carved a path to the bottom of the window. Suddenly, a red flashing light caught his attention; it's brightness contrasting sharply with the gloom. Craning his neck, he turned his head to watch the fire engine zoom by. As it passed, Johnny noticed a man standing at the back helping to steer the big rig. Wow, I wish that was me. I bet if I was him, I'd fit in and people would like me.
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