Broken Window
There was a knock at the door. It was a small boy, about six years old. Something of his had found its way into my garage, he said, and he wanted it back. Upon opening the garage door, I noticed two additions: a base- ball and a broken window sporting a baseball-sized hole. “How do you suppose this ball got in here?” I asked the boy. Taking one look at the ball, one look at the window, and one look at me, the boy exclaimed, “Wow! I must have thrown it right through that hole!” |
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