She squatted, long fingers clasping firmly to the flourescent orange box filled to the brim with squashed, sticky childrens toys. With great effort she heaved the box into her arms and waddled her way to the door. Mr Mulcher sniggered to himself as he saw her struggle to squeeze herself through the frame. Sitting in his easy chair, back to his window, he took a sneaky satisfaction in not offering her any help. She looked up, and seing his smug expression, she rolled her eyes in disdain. His typically cavalier response was to wink, but for pure pleasure he deigned to also cluck his tongue and spin on his chair.
By Alexandra Knight
Year 12
Inspired by the study of literary criticism in AS English Literature.
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