(( This is a possible idea for another story ))
“Do you tshink that’s deep enough?” the boy running the white and red backhoe shouted. His tousled brown hair ruffled in the breeze as his brown eyes glanced over at his father. His son, Dirk was so similar to him that people had teased him about being cloned. The boy, at twelve, was only a few centimeters short of his father’s height, and his large, lean frame hinted at the bulk his father carried.
Dirk scratched his nose as Harlan Zachary ambled over next to the rumbling machine, and looked … [READ MORE]