
copyright Ceayr
The pulsing music from the stadium above almost drowned out Sadie’s rumbling stomach.
“I hope it’s a football game,” Daryl said. “Football fans eat the best food.”
After football games, when the last happy fan had stumbled out, Sadie and Daryl would sneak out for a buffet of hot dog ends, dropped nachos, and half-full cups of beer forgotten under seats.
“I’ll go find out,” Daryl said. He came back an hour later with a flyer and a disappointed expression.
Sadie took it. “World Poverty Fundraising Rally,” she read. She looked at Daryl. “What kind of food do they eat?”



