R
rmall
Guest
The afternoon started out as dreary and wet as anything that can dishearten a spirit I had planned to go to the park later that afternoon to ride on my bike, but to the disappointment of the arrival of pouring rain, dismissed the intention of doing so.
When it first arrived, it was unexpected and it came down upon our town like a million vultures. The people passing our gate all ran for shelter at near by shops. This happened at about three minutes past two and it came with a loud swoosh from the sky. It went smack onto the ground with loud splashes as puddles filled up.
I went back into the living room after watching such a spectacular scene from nature. The living room was a very weathered looking room with tired, old chairs and an old piano, which didn’t play a single off key note although it had been there for years, vertically opposite the main door. There were six sofas in different places, which were each by themselves like double beds, and they were all worn out, but were still comfortable even of its ancient age. The curtains were made of lace, blowing with the wind like a white ghost, and there was a box like television set. The only new ornament in the room was the newly purchased speaker. This room’s furniture, as one can tell, was all mismatched, since some of the things in there were each made of different materials. This room has always been this way ever since I can remember and have only had slight changes.
It had been recently vacated by my grandfather and was now occupied by my grandmother, sitting comfortably on a two-seater sofa, watching some drama on the television. She had something in both her hands but I was too engaged in my thoughts to bother wondering what it was.
I then entered the shining and sparkling kitchen to look for something to chew on. I found a packet of biscuits in a box. I brought two packets back to the living room, just in case my grandmother wanted some. As I entered, the commercial was on and I walked over towards where my grandmother sat and offered her the packet of biscuits and she quietly declined. During this, I saw that she was knitting something. I sat on another sofa, opposite where my grandmother sat, beside the window.
As I sat, munching on the salty piece of biscuit, I gave a glance towards my grandmother. She had on a flowery pink dress that really did attract butterflies, which was almost ankle length. I then noticed that through all those past few years, she had grown old and withered while I grew and flourished. It had been a gradual change on her since she was now thinner than before, when I was still seven years old, but she has never changed her short hair style and has maintained it, dying it back to black once in awhile. When the show started, I immediately looked out the window, for the show was too emotional for my liking.
The rain was still pouring hard but the size and speed of the droplets were reducing, making small pitter-patter noises on the window panes. The splashes were less audible and the puddles have grown larger in size, almost into the size of lakes.
I looked back onto the living room and noticed my grandmother placing a box into the piano seat in which she placed her knitting in. By, now the rain has ceased to a definite stop. Slowly, she walked over to the door and I opened it for her, with a squeak of the rusty old hinges. I accompanied her out since there wouldn’t be water splashing about anymore.
My grandmother avoided the puddles of water and so did I. She went and sat under the shady tree, on a bench, while I sat on a lawn chair. The smell of grass was fresh, as well as soggy and the rain droplets on the leaves glistened like a million diamonds. The birds started chirping and cooing at one another, making a very musical melody. People started to emerge from their houses and the street was filled with motorcycles again.
It was a nice feeling just to be alone with my grandmother, even if there wasn’t much talking between us but it gave us a stronger bond.
When it first arrived, it was unexpected and it came down upon our town like a million vultures. The people passing our gate all ran for shelter at near by shops. This happened at about three minutes past two and it came with a loud swoosh from the sky. It went smack onto the ground with loud splashes as puddles filled up.
I went back into the living room after watching such a spectacular scene from nature. The living room was a very weathered looking room with tired, old chairs and an old piano, which didn’t play a single off key note although it had been there for years, vertically opposite the main door. There were six sofas in different places, which were each by themselves like double beds, and they were all worn out, but were still comfortable even of its ancient age. The curtains were made of lace, blowing with the wind like a white ghost, and there was a box like television set. The only new ornament in the room was the newly purchased speaker. This room’s furniture, as one can tell, was all mismatched, since some of the things in there were each made of different materials. This room has always been this way ever since I can remember and have only had slight changes.
It had been recently vacated by my grandfather and was now occupied by my grandmother, sitting comfortably on a two-seater sofa, watching some drama on the television. She had something in both her hands but I was too engaged in my thoughts to bother wondering what it was.
I then entered the shining and sparkling kitchen to look for something to chew on. I found a packet of biscuits in a box. I brought two packets back to the living room, just in case my grandmother wanted some. As I entered, the commercial was on and I walked over towards where my grandmother sat and offered her the packet of biscuits and she quietly declined. During this, I saw that she was knitting something. I sat on another sofa, opposite where my grandmother sat, beside the window.
As I sat, munching on the salty piece of biscuit, I gave a glance towards my grandmother. She had on a flowery pink dress that really did attract butterflies, which was almost ankle length. I then noticed that through all those past few years, she had grown old and withered while I grew and flourished. It had been a gradual change on her since she was now thinner than before, when I was still seven years old, but she has never changed her short hair style and has maintained it, dying it back to black once in awhile. When the show started, I immediately looked out the window, for the show was too emotional for my liking.
The rain was still pouring hard but the size and speed of the droplets were reducing, making small pitter-patter noises on the window panes. The splashes were less audible and the puddles have grown larger in size, almost into the size of lakes.
I looked back onto the living room and noticed my grandmother placing a box into the piano seat in which she placed her knitting in. By, now the rain has ceased to a definite stop. Slowly, she walked over to the door and I opened it for her, with a squeak of the rusty old hinges. I accompanied her out since there wouldn’t be water splashing about anymore.
My grandmother avoided the puddles of water and so did I. She went and sat under the shady tree, on a bench, while I sat on a lawn chair. The smell of grass was fresh, as well as soggy and the rain droplets on the leaves glistened like a million diamonds. The birds started chirping and cooing at one another, making a very musical melody. People started to emerge from their houses and the street was filled with motorcycles again.
It was a nice feeling just to be alone with my grandmother, even if there wasn’t much talking between us but it gave us a stronger bond.