Dust particles softly float to the ground in the manner usually reserved for sno (standard:humor, 393 words)
Author: giborim	Added: Apr 17 2003	Views/Reads: 3321/1	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Children story

Dust particles softly float to the ground in the manner usually reserved
for snowflakes in October.  Next to me lay the blade from my parents' 
fan.  My brother, his mature age of fourteen demonstrating itself, 
panicked.  Looking me square in the eyes he says, "I'm telling Mom and 
Dad the dog did it." 

Lazily, my Golden retriever lay on the floor scratching her ear not
knowing she was about to be blamed for jumping six feet and knocking 
the blade off my parents' fan while managing to leave the rest intact.  
Even eighteen months younger than my brother, I knew that this would 
never work.  We should have never been pillow fighting in my parents' 
room but it was not my choice. 

I had run in here for refuge. I do not know why I thought Jared would
stop chasing me once I entered, as if it was some sort of sanctuary and 
he, with his broad sword made of pillow, would stay outside.  Jared was 
an excellent pillow fighter and I had long since stopped trying to play 
with him.  He knew how to push the pillow into its casing so it folded 
in the way that would make it hurt the most. 

"Mom and Dad are not going to believe the dog jumped up and knocked the
blade off."  I tried hard to talk without laughing so hard he couldn't 
understand me. 

Our next scheme to disguise the fan was to turn it on.  Thinking that
since it is moving you can't count the blades my parents would never 
figure it out.  Jared pulled the cord to turn the fan on all the way.  
The fan wobbled in a way that led me to believe it had too much to 
drink that evening.  We both started laughing, me hysterically, Jared 
much more reserved.  I did not feel at all to blame for this I was, 
after all, an innocent victim he was trying to attack. 

"I am going to bed" It was my new scheme. 

I woke up in the morning expecting full well the fan would be fixed like
some sort of bad dream.  Of course it wasn't.  We both had to pay for 
it.  To this day I consider this a grave injustice. Dust particles 
softly float to the ground in the manner usually reserved for 
snowflakes in October. 


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