An
ear-piercing smash, sounding like the shattering of glass, penetrated the
laidback air surrounding old Mr Lim’s house. The boys gasped in horror. They
started to regret their act of sneaking into Mr Lim’s garden to have a game of
football. Frank had kicked the ball so hard that it had smashed a window
shattering it into pieces. He now stood rooted to the ground not knowing what
to make of the situation.
“Who kicked the ball and caused it to smash my window?”
Old Mr Lim’s voice was cold and hard. He came out of his house, his face
scarlet with fury. If looks could kill, Frank would have been six feet under.
Old Mr Lim was a tall, solid chunk of a man, the kind that chopped phonebooks
into half for fun. His silver grey hair seemed to stand up like a porcupine, as
if they were seething with rage too. Glaring at the boys, Justin, Tommy and
Frank, he ranted and rattled off like a machine gun at them. “For the last
time, who did this?”
Frank could not fight down his guilt any more. It was time
to own up. Fighting down fresh feelings of pain, he decided to steel himself.
“Mr Tan, I’m the culprit.”
so short
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