Heart walked down the street, a big frown on his face.
'Again, how many times has this been? Will I have to tell Min? I don't want to tell Min.' Heart looked down at the path and saw a big stick laying on the ground, large enough to walk with and stopped to pick it up.
He knew he was stalling, he had been stalling, ever since he had left school with the note from his teacher outlining what he had done.
"The note doesn't say why I did it," Heart stated, vehemently. The street was empty except for him as most kids were back with their families probably eating dinner.
When he went home, the house would either be empty, or there was going to be a very unhappy Min since he was late.
There wouldn't be any dinner waiting for him, warm and inviting to fill his belly.
He knew he came home carrying the gift of a note from the principal for fighting in school.
