What Do You See

“What do ya see, Jipper?” Tommy looked eagerly to his friend, squinting in the afternoon sun that beat down on the flat roof. He adjusted his seat, trying to get comfortable on the wadded up shirt he was using to protect his bum from the heat.

As Jipper didn’t answer, Tommy pressed, “You can pro’lly see clear up Mount Lemon, huh?” A new Ford Fairlane cruised by, its chrome blinding, but the driver seemed to pay no heed to the two boys perched above.

“Come on,” Tommy urged, “Lemme have a turn, or at least tell me what you can see, man.”

Jipper lowered the aged bronze spyglass, a gleam in his eye, “I can see…adventure.” Still looking towards the dusty horizon he passed the heavy thing to his friend.

Once he had it to himself, Tommy groaned, “Aw, Jipper, I can’t see a thing through this. It’s all blurry and stuff. How’d you do it?”

Smiling and tapping his temple lightly, his buddy answered, “I used my other eye.”

“Shee-oot, Jipper, yer nuts. I’m goin to Ellen’s for a popsicle. You comin?”

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