The Auction - Original Writing :: Papers

The Auction - Original Writing The rain battered have upon the sm on the whole, shivering figure that sit down in the corner of the bus shelter. It had been sat there for three hours now and was starting to lose all hope. This tousled figure was of course, me, and it was I that had been sitting in the tiny, incorrectly named bus shelter, for in this concomitant place there was no hope at all of indeed gaining shelter, waiting for the past three hours for a bus that seemed as though it would never come. It would be just my luck that on this particular day, when I had already lost the keys for my grows car and spilt my Muller light yoghourt all over my best jeans, that I would have to wait in a aloof bus stop, waiting for a bus that seemed goddamned not to come, to go to a auction in a remote place that I had never been to before, that I didnt particularly want to go to I mean when I said to my mother and father culture year that I would like a c ar for my eighteenth I had been thinking along the lines of a brand new Porsche, or possibly a BMW, I would have even settled for a Mini. save when, on my eighteenth birthday, nearly a week ago now, my mother had given me an envelope with a cheque for 1500 and proclaimed that it was time I took responsibility for my own things, I was completely stumped. An Auction, I mean no offence to auction goers but its never really appealed to me. But my well(p) mother took the opportunity to understand the day off today to follow me to Newgate for the auction. That, however was before I lost the car keys and although I knew I would get grief off my mother for losing them I wouldnt have to go to the auction, right? Wrong, how convenient that Jeff from next door, although he wouldnt be able take me there, he could drop me off at