A small hand reaches out from seemingly nowhere, the long shadowsmaking it impossible to identify who the hand belongs to. Chubby little fingers waves around in the air reaching for something out of sight. Minuscule scars illuminated by the scare light of the moon. The hand closes around a sturdy bronze frame, engraved with designs. Finally locating what it was searching for, the hand slowly begins sliding the object along the cluttered floor, pulling it towards them. As the hand returns to the owner so does the item. Unmistakably clear, yet darkened by years of neglect, a painting.
“Ugh,” Art grunted with frustration, the weight of the box finally becoming too much for him to handle. He could feel the sweat running down his back, his clothes …show more content…
“Well hello there! I think we might be neighbors. Care to give hand?” Art gestured to the pile of boxes spread out around him, in the very cluttered garage.
“Nei-gh-bors! You won’t leave me will you? Everyone leaves me, but don't worry we’ll be best friends! I know I am not smart like you but I can help with anything.” Charlie glances around the room, supposedly trying to remember everything about the room.
Art looks at Charlie curiously then with an unnoticeable shake of his head agrees, “Well alright then, I don't mind the company! Here let me show you what to do.”
As the two of them work in the unorganized garage, the sun begins to set an array of colors streaked across the sky. Shadows engulf the once bright day as night falls.
“Mr. Spiegelman! Charlie! Look what I have! Where are you? I brought you some lemonade.” A girl voice rings out across the yard and into the …show more content…
Attempting to navigate their way, through the disarray of boxes, to the small girl standing at the entrance of the garage, both men look comical. The sound of the child’s laughter makes the men pause and look at the girl.
“What?” They exclaim in unison, with feet still raised in the air supporting a confused look on their faces.
“Nothing, you two just look silly is all,” she sheepishly admitted, a lazy grin stretching unto her young face.
The two men grabbed the tall glasses of chilled lemonade and relished in the coolness of the drink. After a long day of work both were feeling rather exhausted, and just wanted to sleep.
“So, Scout tell me how is your father doing?” Art questioned as he wiped his upper lip.
“ Atticus? Oh he's alright I guess.” Scout
“Ugh,” Art grunted with frustration, the weight of the box finally becoming too much for him to handle. He could feel the sweat running down his back, his clothes …show more content…
“Well hello there! I think we might be neighbors. Care to give hand?” Art gestured to the pile of boxes spread out around him, in the very cluttered garage.
“Nei-gh-bors! You won’t leave me will you? Everyone leaves me, but don't worry we’ll be best friends! I know I am not smart like you but I can help with anything.” Charlie glances around the room, supposedly trying to remember everything about the room.
Art looks at Charlie curiously then with an unnoticeable shake of his head agrees, “Well alright then, I don't mind the company! Here let me show you what to do.”
As the two of them work in the unorganized garage, the sun begins to set an array of colors streaked across the sky. Shadows engulf the once bright day as night falls.
“Mr. Spiegelman! Charlie! Look what I have! Where are you? I brought you some lemonade.” A girl voice rings out across the yard and into the …show more content…
Attempting to navigate their way, through the disarray of boxes, to the small girl standing at the entrance of the garage, both men look comical. The sound of the child’s laughter makes the men pause and look at the girl.
“What?” They exclaim in unison, with feet still raised in the air supporting a confused look on their faces.
“Nothing, you two just look silly is all,” she sheepishly admitted, a lazy grin stretching unto her young face.
The two men grabbed the tall glasses of chilled lemonade and relished in the coolness of the drink. After a long day of work both were feeling rather exhausted, and just wanted to sleep.
“So, Scout tell me how is your father doing?” Art questioned as he wiped his upper lip.
“ Atticus? Oh he's alright I guess.” Scout