At the bottom of the hill, John and Susan are wrestling each other and roughhousing as they usually are unless they happen to be locked into a lip-lock and romantic hug. They are at the age where they are still roughhousing around more than kissing, but one never knows what they will be doing next. They still like an occasional kiss during their roughhousing.
During each day’s journey, one never knows what they are going to be doing next. Today they happen to be roughhousing rather than into romantic kisses. Maybe later things will change. Suddenly John stops and stares up the hill. What in the world was that striding across the top of the hill? He sits down and pulls Susan down onto his lap and points.
“Look, what is that?”
“Susan, stop squirming and look at the top of the hill.”
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