Sunday, January 24, 2016

100 Words a Day 774

I stood just inside the doorway of the shop, afraid to move. It was a collection of surfaces and nails, covered in expensive plates. As my parents browsed the wares, I was terrified that with a single movement I would cause a cascade of plates that would end in a symphony of shattered china. Well, that wasn’t the actual end. That was when my parents screamed at me and paid the shop owners a considerable amount of money to compensate them for the destruction I’d caused. My sigh of relief upon leaving was like a five-one closing an orchestral masterpiece.

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