Hi guys! It's 22nd day of the month again and so I will be featuring The Blanchean Novel.
This time the story will focus on Alf Shrub's Cutlass watch. His gift from his mother.
I love this post because of the so cute illustration made by a friend,
TJ Lubrano. She's my new friend here in the blogosphere who's good in the field art of sketching and illustrating. Very humane! So everyone, after reading my post do visit her very cute personal blog A Look in a Creative Mind and see more of her illustrations. Be amaze!
Chapter 1. Part 2. Mister Cutlass Watch
Alf Shrub was definitely as happy as his mother, his face was an evidence of glorious happiness, realizing, it was Mister Cutlass popular watch, a black leather wrist watch abound by every boys in their classroom. He actually likes it since the last time they visited Mister Cutlass Shop. Knew much how expensive it was, he then remembered the shop’s red tag knot on its leather skin, showing it was really expensive.
A paint of surprise on Alf Shrub’s fair face were then changed with disappointment, somewhat, ‘coz of the watch, he thinks, “Where did mother get that packs of bread, it was really too expensive, not afford then.” He sighed, gesturing two hands straight toward his mother with the watch on tip, vowing.
“Why shrugging like that? It’s your day, your fourteenth birthday. Don’t be too hilarious with it, I know you really like it. It was actually Mister Cutlass who offered me the watch.”
Alf gestured aback. “A popular Cutlass! You mean?”
“Yeah, it was Mister Cutlass who offered me a markdown price of the watch. He said that every time you visit his shop, you’re actually having a hard time locked up at his ‘opular watch.” Lereille favored.
Mister Cudy Cutlass is a forty seven year old merchant and the owner of The Cutlass Shop. A very nice friend of Miss Pen Parsley and the Shrub’s as well. They have been intact with him for almost 8 years now, buying stuffs and delivering baked foods specially made by Lereille Shrub.
Alf Shrub helped himself, his eyes slowed down and said, “Above half the original.” It was very annoying; it was actually a good sign from his inside. And as a matter of fact, happiness was not only his and of Lerielle’s but also of his pet Tart.
The turtle seemed to cover-up from the water presently calm to its cage and not that all, Miss Lereille Shrub laced the turtle with freshly cut lettuce from their backyard’s garden.
The kitchen was the usual place for silverware hung on the brick wall, from beside, and the sink was entirely devastating not because it was of old fashion, but of a snag on its sink itself and that the platters were then placed on their enclosed cages. Tart's glass cage was fixedly handled toward the other side of the brick kitchenette, demonstrating symptoms of thunder-like cracks above from and on the side wall.
The mere fact that the kitchen’s ambiance was not to be remind of, a frame painted by his mother the year eighty-nine, Alf’s year birth, sticked above Tart’s corner was the one to be recognize. A portrait of probably looks like a green hills carpeted by green grass, fruit shrubs and trees of not known sweet sprouts, with the small nipa-like houses place on it, drawing the season of Autumn Leaves present at the top of the little's abode.
After doing so, a cup of cocoa oats and deliciously made vegetable sandwich, Tart shrugged simultaneously on the table, by doing so, Alf headed Tart to its cage, placing the female turtle to its soaking wet home.
The appointed hands of the sala's wall clock merrily ticking throughout the room reminding about, that it was past seven in the morning. The living room was designed to attract visitor’s eyes, by which, furniture’s that once were knew, now were ruined by years. The old sofa set was strictly arranged beside the cabinet wall full of ashy covered books and of encyclopedias, some of what restored, some were not and which divides the cornered floor into two viable sections, the small brick kitchen and the apartment's living room. Miss Pen Parsley’s portrait was placed from beside the main door, a very kind old lass owner of the apartment known for her motherly earth petitions and of unmatched destiny. She had neither a partnered love nor a family to live with, but of the memories she kept with the Shrub’s.
To be continued..
The last part of chapter one, Alf Shrub: Uniform on Deck will be posted next month, every the 22nd day, so stay as shrubbish as you are!
Photo credit to Flickr and Bizzaro's Oberon