Rain pelting harder than golf balls, and lightening striking every other minute, it was the biggest storm ever. Our roof was naturally leaking in the attic, and the windows were rattling. Downstairs in the living room, my brother and I were watching TV but the power kept going in and out.
The doorbell finally rang, and we ran to it, the dog barking at our heals. My brother got to the door first. I let him open it and then I shoved him to the side. I may not be bigger, but I am older, so he moved.
It wasn't Shu-Sai-Chong who usually delivers our Chinese food. Instead of a tall lanky Chinese seventeen year old, there was a short older man standing, soaking wet, on our front porch steps. His face was wrinkled and frozen in a mischievous grin. His name was Shen-Shi, and he stood there holding our order close to his chest.
I felt obligated to allow him to take a step inside and even close the door due to the storm. Even inside, he didn't loosen his grip on the plastic sack with our Chinese food until I reached into my pocket for the money Dad gave me before he and Mom left for the night, leaving me in charge of not only money for dinner, but my little brother.
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
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okay. So... as you can see... this one isn't finished yet. I'm not sure where to go with this, but I thought I'd post anyway. I'll update/ change it up for a final draft later. For now, comment on what you think the man will say, what will happen to this kids and anything you think I should do to make it interesting. Thanks!
ReplyDeleteAs he turns to leave after giving you your change, he simply says, in perfect cultured English, "Don't fear the lightning. It's just the Gods doing some target shooting. Make sure you don't give them reason to aim their sights on you." He surprises you with his excellent English. You can tell from his look and in his hands, worn and wrinkled with purposeful life, that he has a vastness of stories to tell.
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