That
day I walked along with a kid. A small ordinary boy who apparently has nothing exceptional except his constant laughing habit. He was a son of my cousin’s
friend’s brother. Shian was his name, a typical of American name, though there
was no any American or western country blood streaming in his vein. Then,
through the following chronology I describe my short relationship with him.
It
started in a hotel room, when he and his family came and prepare themselves to
attend a wedding celebration. His dad was the elder brother’s bridegroom. When
his parents left him for picking up their mom at a saloon, I only saw him and Bella (his sister), playing
on the bed and laughing foolishly. They are sure not a typical bookworms. Subsequently, I grabbed Shian’s attention by involving myself to the
interest of those age kids. I lifted him, got him feel like a bird flying. That kind of play was a
beginning of his liking me.
