Wanderings (Pika)
Apr 7, 2011 17:10:55 GMT -5
Post by Esmer on Apr 7, 2011 17:10:55 GMT -5
*Nick Maask*
I walk along the unpaved, dirt road, pushing a wheelbarrow. Sweat runs down on my face and splashes on the pork. "Damn," I mutter. I can still sell it. Whatever. I move faster, hoping I can get to the market before the pork and eggs spoil. I probably will, the market's only a mile away. Just to be safe, I break into a run. More sweat splashes onto the pork. I didn't want to kill the pig, but I knew that we needed money. If that sun would just cool down-wait. "What's that?" I ask myself. I run faster. After a minute, I can make out the shape of a boy sitting in the middle of the road. When I reach him, I stop. "Can you get out of the road?" He's young, about ten. But still. He should know better. When he doesn't reply, I say more forcefully, "Get out of the road, kid." He doesn't reply.
I walk along the unpaved, dirt road, pushing a wheelbarrow. Sweat runs down on my face and splashes on the pork. "Damn," I mutter. I can still sell it. Whatever. I move faster, hoping I can get to the market before the pork and eggs spoil. I probably will, the market's only a mile away. Just to be safe, I break into a run. More sweat splashes onto the pork. I didn't want to kill the pig, but I knew that we needed money. If that sun would just cool down-wait. "What's that?" I ask myself. I run faster. After a minute, I can make out the shape of a boy sitting in the middle of the road. When I reach him, I stop. "Can you get out of the road?" He's young, about ten. But still. He should know better. When he doesn't reply, I say more forcefully, "Get out of the road, kid." He doesn't reply.
