The rickety fan was making that irritating sound again.
The first occupant in the room stopped knitting, looked up, and sighed deeply.
"We must do something about that fan, mustn't we, my dear?" she said
The second occupant of the room, seated in her lap, purred softly.
"That's right, I knew you would agree with me. You be a good boy while I go and look for someone to repair it"
Saying so, the old lady got up from her rocking chair. With great difficulty, as her weak 82 year-old knees struggled to bear her weight.
Hobbling unsteadily, she picked up her shawl and put on her shoes. And of course, the walking stick, her other significant, though inanimate, companion.
She stepped out of the room. The weather outside could have been marvelous, but fell short; There was something subtly wrong, as if the perfect day had changed its mind suddenly and decided to throw a tantrum.
She saw him again. He was holding that girl by her wrist.
"Why don't you come with me, darling and I will show you what the good life is all about..."
"Let me go" the poor girl pleaded, nearly in tears.
The man laughed cruelly in reply.
She peered through her spectacles, struggling to make out the two people, one forcing, the other forced, in front of her.
"Young man, it will be better if you let go of her" she spoke sternly
He looked at her with disdain.
"I suppose you will stop me, you old hag?" He sneered.
She didn't reply
All of a sudden, there was a loud bang. The man looked with horror as his shirt turned crimson. He fell, coughing, as the look of surprise froze on his visage. His eyes remained open.
The girl ran away, screaming and sobbing.
She came back inside and plonked herself back on the rocking chair.
"I couldn't find anyone to repair the fan, dear" She sighed.
She started knitting again, picking up where she had left off.
There seemed to be a flurry of activity outside. The wail of sirens could be heard.
"We seem to have visitors" she remarked, as she petted his head.
He looked at her, thumping his tail in assent. The rocking chair moved back and forth.
The first occupant in the room stopped knitting, looked up, and sighed deeply.
"We must do something about that fan, mustn't we, my dear?" she said
The second occupant of the room, seated in her lap, purred softly.
"That's right, I knew you would agree with me. You be a good boy while I go and look for someone to repair it"
Saying so, the old lady got up from her rocking chair. With great difficulty, as her weak 82 year-old knees struggled to bear her weight.
Hobbling unsteadily, she picked up her shawl and put on her shoes. And of course, the walking stick, her other significant, though inanimate, companion.
She stepped out of the room. The weather outside could have been marvelous, but fell short; There was something subtly wrong, as if the perfect day had changed its mind suddenly and decided to throw a tantrum.
She saw him again. He was holding that girl by her wrist.
"Why don't you come with me, darling and I will show you what the good life is all about..."
"Let me go" the poor girl pleaded, nearly in tears.
The man laughed cruelly in reply.
She peered through her spectacles, struggling to make out the two people, one forcing, the other forced, in front of her.
"Young man, it will be better if you let go of her" she spoke sternly
He looked at her with disdain.
"I suppose you will stop me, you old hag?" He sneered.
She didn't reply
All of a sudden, there was a loud bang. The man looked with horror as his shirt turned crimson. He fell, coughing, as the look of surprise froze on his visage. His eyes remained open.
The girl ran away, screaming and sobbing.
She came back inside and plonked herself back on the rocking chair.
"I couldn't find anyone to repair the fan, dear" She sighed.
She started knitting again, picking up where she had left off.
There seemed to be a flurry of activity outside. The wail of sirens could be heard.
"We seem to have visitors" she remarked, as she petted his head.
He looked at her, thumping his tail in assent. The rocking chair moved back and forth.
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