This is the beginning of my journey, one I feel I'm destined to go far in. I'm determined I will, it's something I don't feel I can give up. It's writing. With every person that clicks on this page, every person who reads my work, every person that becomes a follower and every person that gladly comments, I thank you. Because you are making me a better writer every time.

Tuesday, July 13, 2010

It was a beautiful and sunny day outside but Jon Heath was inside the Macdonald Residence painting the ceiling of their large dining room. He was all set up in his hat and white overalls with a blue t-shirt underneath. He stood on a tall ladder that sat upon a large white sheet in case any of the paint dripped down onto the floor. Next to the ladder sat his radio that he always took to work with him to keep him company and his lunchbox. He often found himself whistling to the songs as he painted. The Macdonald family had gone out for a picnic in the park to enjoy the beautiful weather so Jon was the only one at the large house besides a bored little dog called Rusty.

Rusty was brown and white and often quite a playful dog. The family had planned to meet up with another family that weren’t too fond of ‘friendly’ pets and they also had a son severely allergic. So the family had decided to leave Rusty at home that day much to the children’s disappointment.

When Rusty woke up late because no bubbly or loud children had, he wandered through the seemingly lonely and empty house. That was until he headed downstairs and heard Jon’s music and whistling. He ran into the room through the slightly open door. Jon didn’t hear him come in and carried on with his whistling. Raymond Macdonald was a whistler. He always used to, especially when he gardened so Rusty didn’t find the whistling strange but more the strong smell of the paint. He barked a few times and this caught Jon’s attention.

“Oh, hey little doggie,” he said. When Rusty was satisfied he had been noticed he began to sniff around the room and Jon went back to his painting and his whistling.Rusty couldn’t find the source of the horrible smell that burnt his nose so he gave up and curled up next to the end of the white sheet. The ladder which sat at the other end of the sheet had proved Jon steady over the years but was about to take a huge turn around. Rusty had always been a playful dog and more or less a mischievous one. He grabbed onto the end of the sheet and prepared to pull.

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