"With Uncle handling the company's affairs, even if I don't bother with anything, nothing should go wrong, I would assume."
The words were laden with deep meanings, heavy with mockery and jest.
The standoff between the protagonist and the antagonist was like a bomb with its fuse lit.
Nobody knew how long the fuse was, nor did they know the limits of the protagonist's patience; the sizzling sound of the sparks always unnervingly raised one's heartbeat.
The sky seemed to grow increasingly overcast as the biting wind howled, sweeping up leaves from the ground, casting the backyard in a desolate, forlorn scene.
The old, rusting playground equipment creaked shrilly, as if it would fall apart at any moment.
Only the little wooden cabin in the corner remained just as it had been back then.
