Perry Whistle
He had woken to a clash of bright orange and chirpy voices. This was Perry Whistle’s first memory. He was shoved into a bag that smelled of fresh plastic and, from what he could see, was thrown onto the back of a large shipping truck with the others. The others…who were they? Short, sleek, and bright orange. He caught glimpses of the letters ‘S.O.S’ branded on their backs. He looked down at his own body that read ‘made in England’ on it, just like the rest. He could see other bags containing paper cups and cartons of fresh milk clanking together with the jolting of the old truck. Everyone was pushing and shoving for what little room was available in their cramped space. A soda can went whizzing by, rolling up and down the length of the truck. The anger on his face was clear to everyone; deep dents in his shiny body were almost too much for him to bear. They could hear the fizzing and brewing of his frustration inside, like he could explode at any minute. Perry Whistle shifted uneasily and remained silent. He was nervous and didn’t know what to make of this journey. They were tightly packed and there was scarce enough room for him to breathe. A few others were wheezing by now. They were lightly jumbled then violently
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Approximate Word count = 1059
Approximate Pages = 4 (250 words per page double spaced)
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