LA #1 Accidental Story

Snorkeling is always calm. Simply quiet. Everywhere there were sights, sounds and smells. Right as I was walking up to the stadium I could smell smoke. The remnants of new car smell fought its way up my nose as my head swung back to face my sister. It’s warm in Asia now, the red leaves, the bamboo thistling together in warm, autumn breeze. The wind whispers in my ears. I watched my sister run around the house loudly as she bangs her heels on the hard wood floor. She grins from ear to ear. A sweet lullaby of an owl’s hoot fills the air on a dark, dank night. The glow of the candles sends flickering shadows around the room. I have three dogs, but only one favorite. I look at the sauce-covered ribz that don’t even look like ribz because of all the sauce. The cloud-shaped silver sign read, “Star Clipper.” A gust of mixed dust and wind blows into my face as I open the wooden, red, dull door. It’s big, not by width, but by length. Gus is my Siamese cat. You must be dreaming.