DeletedUser
The warm cup of tea still in his hands, Pal got out of the rocking chair on his front porch and walked into his home. The screen door made a harsh clattering sound, as in banged closed behind him, it startled the pair of thieves in the tree outside, and made them drop their bag of sunflower seeds to the ground, they probably shook their fists at Pal, but he was already out of sight and earshot, standing in his small but well appointed kitchen.
Pots and pans hung from the walls, sat on counter tops and stood guard above the stove, where Pal occasionally made soups. A salad bowl, filled to bursting with lettuce, tomato, cheese and spinach, sat next to the stove, where he had sat it this morning. Pal focused on washing the dirt from his hands in the kitchen sink, before drying off with a towel that had the picture of a duck sewn into it.
Pal sat down in his breakfast nook and used a remote control to flip on a small television that sat atop the fridge, which was at an 80 degree angle from him, sitting in the nook. Pal liberally applied ranch dressing to his salad, before, in the midst of a mouthful of his lunch, flipping through the ten channels you got with bunny ears out here. Pal paused and listened to a news story about a terrorist attack in Minsk, his heart sunk for all those that had lost their lives. He stared at the table for a moment before he flipped the T.V. forward a channel, settling on a cartoon about a Big Red Dog.
It took Pal about half an hour until he was satisfied. He shook the rest of the salad into a plastic bag, before sitting it in his fridge until dinner. Pal walked back to the sink, and was in the process of washing the salad bowl, who's sides were covered in ranch dressing, when he, by chance looked up and saw three people dissolve out of the woods behind his home and approach his back door.
Pal sat the bowl down in the sink and left the water running, before drying off and heading out to meet his guests. Pal still had the towel in his hands, as he opened his back door and looked out onto the gathering in his back yard.
"Hello, my friends, Herbert Palerne at your service. How may I help you?" he asked, with a smile upon his face.
Pots and pans hung from the walls, sat on counter tops and stood guard above the stove, where Pal occasionally made soups. A salad bowl, filled to bursting with lettuce, tomato, cheese and spinach, sat next to the stove, where he had sat it this morning. Pal focused on washing the dirt from his hands in the kitchen sink, before drying off with a towel that had the picture of a duck sewn into it.
Pal sat down in his breakfast nook and used a remote control to flip on a small television that sat atop the fridge, which was at an 80 degree angle from him, sitting in the nook. Pal liberally applied ranch dressing to his salad, before, in the midst of a mouthful of his lunch, flipping through the ten channels you got with bunny ears out here. Pal paused and listened to a news story about a terrorist attack in Minsk, his heart sunk for all those that had lost their lives. He stared at the table for a moment before he flipped the T.V. forward a channel, settling on a cartoon about a Big Red Dog.
It took Pal about half an hour until he was satisfied. He shook the rest of the salad into a plastic bag, before sitting it in his fridge until dinner. Pal walked back to the sink, and was in the process of washing the salad bowl, who's sides were covered in ranch dressing, when he, by chance looked up and saw three people dissolve out of the woods behind his home and approach his back door.
Pal sat the bowl down in the sink and left the water running, before drying off and heading out to meet his guests. Pal still had the towel in his hands, as he opened his back door and looked out onto the gathering in his back yard.
"Hello, my friends, Herbert Palerne at your service. How may I help you?" he asked, with a smile upon his face.