Grandpa was always the first to sense a storm coming. He said he could smell it in the wind.
When I got up this morning, Grandpa already had his hammer in his hand and a handful of long nails in his mouth. 'Sthormsh comin" he muttered. "Sure, Grandpa." I said looking at the sky. "The sky was red last night...sailor's delight!" I quipped.
Grandpa put the hammer down and pulled the nails from his mouth. "
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