A man emerged from the hanger with grease on his hands. He pulled a rag from his back pocket and wiped the first layer of black from his fingers. "What can I do you for?"
"I need a plane," the boy said.
"Can't help you, son. We only got parts here, nothing that'll fly."
“I’ll give you a hundred dollars,” the boy said without hesitation.
The man looked the boy over, shook his head, and tucked the rag back in his pocket. “Come with me.”
No comments:
Post a Comment
Compliment, critique, conceive, create...you know the drill. Thanks for stopping by and saying hello.