|A few weeks into the lung holidays, I was beginning to feel rather restless. I had gone shopping with my friends, caught the latest movie in town, read all the books I wanted to, and now I did not know what to do with myself. I even contemplated on getting a part-time job, but I was too lazy. As I lay on my bed, my grandmother sighed and said, "Susan, why don't you tidy up your room? It is such a mess. Come on, you have slept enough. Get up now!"|
Slowly, I dragged myself out of bed and wearily set about the mammoth task. It seemed impossible; so much junk strewn about the floor, magazines and books all over the table and cobwebs decorating the corners.
As the afternoon wore on, I began to feel happier actually. I suppose the sight of my tidier room must have lifted my spirits. Soon I found myself humming cheerfully.
After wiping the dust off my writing table, I sat down on my chair to rest awhile. My eyes fell on a sturdy metallic box at one corner of my room. I felt elated suddenly as I remembered what I had put in there. Inside were my most precious belongings: souvenirs, badges, friendship bands and other knick-knacks that I had kept as a schoolgirl. The thought of rummaging through those belongings further brightened my day.
I dragged the box to the centre of the room and tried to pry open it. It would not budge. Locked I thought; where did I put the key? My mind worked furiously. Oh yes, the key was in the left-hand corner of my writing table. I distinctly remembered putting it there. I opened the drawer and searched inside, but the key was not there. I removed the drawer and emptied its contents on the floor. After a few minutes of searching, I found myself boiling inside. There was no key. There was no key in the other drawer too. I wanted to scream.
Muttering oaths and curses under my breath, I searched all the possible places in the room. I spent a good part of an hour going twice over all these places, but I still could not find the missing key.
Finally, I stormed out of the room and yelled at my parents, questioning them about the key. Nobody could help me. They were unhappy with the way I had behaved. I went back into the room, stared at the offending box and gave it a kick. All I got was a painful foe.
I considered prying the box with a crowbar, but I decided against it because it was too beautiful to be destroyed. Then I tried opening the stubborn lock with whatever keys my hands could get hold of. It was futjie apd I gayejjpjn_despafe-J pushed the box back into its corner.
Later that week, Mike, my younger brother, invited me to go fishing with him. I accepted his invitation. I dug up some worms while he prepared the fishing rods. Soon we were at our favourite spot by the river. I cast my line and waited for the fish to bite.
Suddenly, Mike yelted in delight. He had a bite and began pulling in his line. He had caught a big bass. Then from the corner of my eye, I saw something familiar. The weight that Mike had tied to his line. I grabbed the weight and looked hard and long at it. It was my missing
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