By Shuke Wang
Now, now. You think that having a life is not so special and all that homework isn’t worth it. Your mom embarrassing in front of all your friends is such a drag. And you just hate your life when you spill soda on your favorite shoes. At least that doesn’t stain. But my theory stained. I mean-like you are lucky to have lived at least one hundred years. It’s lucky for me not to get shot before the age of death. That’s something that I encountered. The name’s Shuke. The story’s mine.
“Look at all this!” I heard my dad call from the dining room in the museum. My mom had died, so I really counted on my dad. Slowly, I walked over to the tearoom, where I was working for Carsone. As you see, Carsone was a manager of this famous museum in Ohio and I honored him a lot. Carsone always had a cherry mood. But today he had a bad mood. He still had blue eyes, a light tan, and chestnut colored hair. But today his eyes looked sad and miserable. As I bent my head down, my hands flew to my mouth .There on the floor were pieces of fancy glass, a red ripped fabric, and most of all, my little cousin Iddie, Standing on the floor with money in his hand.
“I got job.” Iddie stated proudly. “I got in trouble and got money.”
