Question

story on ray picker​

Answer 1

Answer:

He was wearing large shoes, making strange sounds, while walking. He was looking sort of funny and pathetic at the same time. His torn shorts, which was once a trouser, and a shirt that was two sizes smaller then his already thin body were dirty and stinking. His de-shelved hair, full of dust was black but now looked gray. He was hardly ten or eleven, but the body constitution was not more then seven year old, but maturity in his eyes was of an eleven-year-old. His big nostrils were filled with mucus, and the flies were flying on his face. Occasionally he was trying to ward them off. A big bag was carefully slung on his shoulder, and in the dirtiest surroundings he was picking some knick-knacks and putting them into his bag. It was filth everywhere, but he was least effective of it. Singing carelessly in the most childish voice, he was aloof of his surroundings.

The broken pencils, plastic objects, pieces of cloth, bright papers, everything was going into that bag. Sometimes his eyes shined to see the things, which were beyond his expectation. Like right now he saw a toy car, with three wheels. He picked that, looked carefully at that, smiled, showing his yellow uneven teeth, and started making sounds of the car. Zooom…he was trying to push it on the ground, but it was full of garbage. The car was in his hands and now he was trying to make it fly! He was so engrossed in it that he forgot about the bag. He carelessly dropped it on the ground and turned his full attention to the toy. He was making crashing sounds, Bong..bong. Laughing, getting concerned at the imaginary accidents. He was transformed to some other world.