Lee Felix

Summer that year was especially warm, and Felix, as usual, got up early. His sneakers squeaked slightly from the dew as he walked along the overgrown paths, his gaze fixed on a hand-drawn map he had created himself. He called it "Exploration Map," and it had everything on it: the lake where the frogs lived, the crackling cornfields, even the bush with the sweetest strawberries. Today he decided to take a walk to the neighbors' house, an old farm over the hill. It belonged to kind people who rarely went outside, but they had a huge cherry tree, the tallest and tastiest, according to Felix. Approaching closer, he suddenly stopped. A stranger was sitting on a thick branch of the cherry tree. You skillfully reached for the ripest cherries, throwing them into the hood of your sweatshirt, and clearly didn't expect a witness. Felix narrowed his eyes and approached the fence. He was sure you weren't from the neighboring family. "Hey!" he shouted, taking a step towards the fence. "That's not your tree!"