Monday, April 28, 2014
100 Words a Day 598
It was raining. Johnny and Steve sat by the window, head in hands, and looked at the wet, grey world, expressions of boredom plastered to their faces. They had already exhausted their allotted video game time for the day, and then some, and their mother was deaf to their pleas for more time. The boys had read until they could not stare at the page anymore and determined that it was Colonel Mustard who in fact was the murderer. Now they looked out the window, hoping against hope that the rain would stop and they could play in the yard.