Animals
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Jeffrey looked at the blank page. It glared back. His ideas came slowly, and he found himself sketching a round-bellied, long-armed sloth. "Focus on the words," Jeffrey muttered to himself. "Just forget about the words," whispered a voice. Jeffrey looked around, his eyes wide. "Who said that?"
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One of the private-school boys grabs hold of his buddy's arm. "Let's get outta here," he says. "See the fangs on that monster? And the way his ears are sticking up?" I don't like him calling Smokey a monster. If Smokey's baring his fangs, it's because he's on the alert. I head for the cash. I feel like Smokey needs me. Like I understand him in a way no one else does.
