By the time Jasper tracked me down, late autumn had already set in.
The ancient apple tree growing in the courtyard of my family's old house bloomed unbelievably early this year.
Countless apples clustered thick between deep green leaves. The second a breeze swept through, their sweet scent drifted for blocks around.
I sat on the stone bench beneath the tree, learning how to make apple pie.
The old lady next door talked me through it patiently, showing me her own recipe on how to do it.
The little boy from across the alley, Kenny, sprawled over the stone table opposite me, swinging his scrawny legs back and forth as he chattered on and off with me.
"Make it really sweet, please! I can't wait to taste it once you're done baking!"
Watching him prattle away made me think of my own so
