On the morning of February 14, there was peace at domesticate; no student shouting over the larger-than-life smashing understanding of direct; no angry teacher chide; all was calm and noneffervescent. There were no vehicles external on the streets contact the school. Both the watchmen of the school were posing on the devil chairs outside -- bo bolshy with their usual job -- one of them was quiescency piece of music the other finally decided to contain the newspaper. I was spending the quiet time in the school library looking outside the big library window fitted with a spotless glass. I was watching around the resign streets and humming my favourite birdsong Boulevard of broken dreams by Green day when a purple coloured Pajero caught my sight. The Pajero dour towards the school gate. The school guards stood up and opened the gates to allow the Pajero enter. As the vehicle entered, the guards greeted whoever was sitting inside. I did not experience who was in the c ar hardly the gatekeepers seemed to know the soul inside. I was confused. I kept gaze at the purple vehicle. As the Pajero stopped, the gatekeepers ran towards the door and opened the vehicles door with gratitude. A middle elder man came out of the Pajero. He was dressed like a gentleman with shiny ghastly boots.

His grey hairs were neatly combed. He had a grin on his face. He seems to be blissful about...something, I thought but I could not bit out whether that grin was mantic to be a brisk one or an offensive one. He then exercise set towards the backseat and took out a big box wrapped in a red paper. Hundreds of thoughts locomote into my mind regarding the man and the red box in his hands. Who is that person? Is he! ... If you want to get a full essay, order it on our website:
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