WA3 Rough Draft

“Wha—”
“Shhhhhh!” hissed Marie. “I’m listening to the grownups!”
Robert looked sternly at his sister. At six years old he was the youngest of the kids, but in many ways the wisest.
“You shouldn’t eavesdrop,” he hissed back.
“Fine,” said Marie, stomping her Mary Janes on the floor to get up. The voices on the other side of the door grew more faint.
“It’s a beautiful day, we should go for a walk,” Robert said as he gazed out of the hall window, at the sunlight twinkling through the tree leaves.
Robert and Marie walked out of the house through the back door and onto their lawn. The grass poked Robert’s bare feet.
“Don’t you want to put on your shoes?”
“I’ll be okay.”
The two children grasped hands and ran through the grasses. The image was like that of a Norman Rockwell painting. They galloped and spun around and around until they fell over, dizzy. Marie gave Robert one of her shoes and they hopped around on one foot. Collapsing onto the ground in fits of giggles, the children laughed and laughed.
“Let’s run back to the house!” said Marie.
“Okay, one-two-three GO!”
“No fair! I wasn’t ready yet!”
Robert stopped in his tracks and looked back at his sister, who was running quickly behind him, panting. He waited until she caught up and then they both sprinted ahead. Marie got to the door just before him and grabbed the knob.
They clambered up the stairs and into the kitchen.