In their haste to get away from the unfamiliar golden object they ran too far south of the big bush. Instead of being able to spot the road that leads to the airport, they found a narrow, sandy tongue that cut into the dry grass. They heard a voice and then they saw Bear fifty-four waving. He stood in the sand – on one foot.
“What are you still doing here?”
Bear fifty-four had traveled along the street, going east for a while, until he realized he wouldn’t find Nelson in traffic. That’s when he had decided to cross over into the sand.
“I burned my foot in the hot sand,” he said, looking a little as if he wanted to cry.
“This sand isn’t hot,” remarked Bear fifty-two. “Let’s go. We’ve got to hurry back to the others.”
“What are you still doing here?”
Bear fifty-four had traveled along the street, going east for a while, until he realized he wouldn’t find Nelson in traffic. That’s when he had decided to cross over into the sand.
“I burned my foot in the hot sand,” he said, looking a little as if he wanted to cry.
“This sand isn’t hot,” remarked Bear fifty-two. “Let’s go. We’ve got to hurry back to the others.”
“It was hot when I got here. Look! Blisters!"
No comments:
Post a Comment