It was a stuffy and dark room. The air was filled with dust. Silverfishes scurried away, hiding in darker , more secluded nooks and crannies as I lifted the books off my shelves. I gazed longingly out of my little dirty window, out into the beautiful garden where the birds were chirping away happily. Oh how I wished I was out there, not in my room heaving books into tiny boxes which just wouldn't fit the books!
Just then I heard the door open. My head whipped around to see my older brother, Jack, walk in. He saw the boxes and said, " Why pack the books into such small and inconvenient boxes when packing them in big boxes would be so much faster? " I immediately did exactly what Jack suggested without even thinking it through. I thought it was a marvellous idea.
However, when I finished packing, I realised that the boxes that Jack had recommended would not fit through the doorway after being assembled. I decided that Jack would know how to solve the problem. So, I set off to find him. I soon found Jack in his room with the same problem as I.
After hours of discussing, we concluded that the best method was to tilt the gigantic boxes sideways and slowly lift them out. We chose this method mostly because it was the only idea that did not involve smashing, hammering, knocking down walls and other such destructive actions. However, we overlooked one very important flaw. When we did what we had decided to do, everything went according to plan until the books tumbled out on to me! It was extremely painful and left me with thousands of blue-black bruises.
So, the moral of the story is " Never listen to your pesky older brother ".