A Single Summer Hour (short story) written in 1994

The screen door closed behind her with a bump and Sherri hesitated for a moment before making her way to the front steps where she carefully jumped--jump, jump, jump, jump--four steps to the sidewalk below.  It was a green summer day, warm and luxurious.  Sherri could hear bees buzzing in the sunshine.  She could smell the warm roses along the driveway near the white picket fence which separated her yard from the white clapboard house next door, where a kind, white-haired widow lived.

Muffin, the big yellow tom cat, rubbed against Sherri's legs.  Sherri sat where she was, on the bottom step of the porch, and stroked the cat's neck and the top of his head.  Muffin purred his appreciation--a mellow sound that blended with the buzzing of the bees and the warm smell of the roses into a mist of contentment that seemed to engulf the small girl who sat, with a bemused look, on the bottom step of the tidy, red-brick house.

The girl was about five years old.  Her hair was chestnut brown as were her eyes and the freckles sprinkled across her nose.  She wore a saffron-yellow, sleeveless, cotton shirt that buttoned down the front and was cut short so that her tummy showed.  Shorts and white tennis shoes completed the outfit.  Sunshine warmed the top of Sherri's head and made her shoulders hot as she stroked the now dozing cat.

"Hey!" came a shout and the screen door opened and closed again with a bang as Terry, Sherri's older brother--a cropped headed freckle face 7 year old full of mischief, bounded through it.  Let's play in the sandpile."

Roused from her reverie, Sherri raced with her brother across the green lawn, past the side of the garage where tall hollyhocks grew, to a large sand box framed with rough planks and shaded by a large chestnut tree that seemed to lean over the picket fence to watch their play.  The sand was smooth yet gritty, hot on top and white, but brown, moist and cool as they dug their hands and now bared toes deeper into it.  They covered their toes and patted the sand firmly around their feet until nothing could be seen of them.  Then they wiggled their toes and watched as the sand cracked and then erupted and their feet sprang free spraying sand all around.

Next, they began constructing a great mound.  They scooped and pushed sand with their hands, then they patted and smoothed it until it was firm all around.  Finally, they began--each on a side--to tunnel carefully through to the center.  When their fingers met they crowed with delight pulling forth sand crusted arms and hands.  They rubbed and shook and jumped about, and the sand cascaded down from their clothes and bodies.Then remembering that across the road were friends and tire swings, and things to fill a summer's day, they raced back across the yard, abandoning sand and shoes, cats and flowers to another hour.

By Sherri  S. Crowley
Obviously, this assignment was to use sensory details.  I quite enjoyed recreating these memories from my childhood.  I had forgotten about this story.  It was fun to read it again.