Contributor: Anton Gunasingam
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"There's a monk at our front door," I told my sister.
She was in bed reading a book. “What does he want?”
“He won’t say. He’s just standing there and grinning.”
She didn't look up. "Tell mom."
"I already did."
"And..."
"She's busy emailing someone. She said she'll speak to him in a minute."
"Did you ask him in? Mom will say you didn't show him any respect. And she'll be mad."
"Already did. But like I told you he isn’t replying."
"Is he one of those foreign guys who can't speak English?"
"No. He looks like us. But he's got a bowl under his arm."
"A bowl?" My sister was interested. "What kind of a bowl?"
I shrugged. "I don't know. But it’s a pretty big one. Like those bowls you put fish in."
My sister shut her book. "Let's go have a look."
He didn't see us check him out from the upstairs...
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Author:
Anton Gunasingam
