Gusts of wind were blowing into the room, making the curtains flutter a little. Elle was trying to take an afternoon nap. Her super-single mattress was so comfortable that she was so tempted to laze in bed the whole day instead of revising for the upcoming examination.
The door bell chimed noisily out of the blue. Feeling lazy like a sloth, she ignored it and continued to hug her bolster, trying to fall asleep. However, the door bell kept ringing relentlessly. Who could be so annoying?
The door bell chimed noisily out of the blue. Feeling lazy like a sloth, she ignored it and continued to hug her bolster, trying to fall asleep. However, the door bell kept ringing relentlessly. Who could be so annoying?
Frustrated, she stomped towards the door and swung it open. As she was about to give the visitor a piece of her mind, her beady eyes fell on a little girl in tattered clothes She had a box in her stick-like arms. A huge grin was plastered across her porcelain face. Two deep dimples bored into her rosy cheeks.
“What do you want?” Elle bellowed in frustration.
“Would you like to buy some pineapple tarts? They are really delicious!” the little girl lifted her whole box of pineapple tarts in her face.
“Goodness gracious me! You woke me up just to taste your pineapple tart!” Elle smacked her forehead in disbelief.
The little girl swallowed a stone in her throat and took out one. “Try it. You will like it,” she replied, hoping that Elle would at least sample it.
Elle refused and gruffily brushed her hand off, causing the tart to drop and it flew to the cement ground and broke into crumbs.
Salty tears brimmed in the little girl's eyes and splashed onto her collar. Her nose turned red and watery too. Bowing her head, she uttered in a soft “sorry” and turned to walk towards the next neighbour.
As she plodded off, Elle suddenly felt stricken with guilt. How could she be so mean to a little girl when all she wanted was to sell some tarts? Overwhelmed with pity, she called out to the girl, “Hey kiddo, come back now!”
The girl turned around and wiped off her tears with her torn sleeves. This time, a faint grin flashed across her face. “How much is a bottle?” Elle asked in a kinder tone.
“Only five dollars a bottle,” she replied. “I will buy one bottle but don't ring my doorbell again, promise?” Elle warned gravely.
“Promise!” she nodded profusely.
Elle pushed five dollars into her tiny fingers and got her tarts. Curious, she popped one in her mouth.
And another.
And the next one.
They were - heavenly. The crust was soft and buttery and the pineapple jam was sweet and melted in her mouth. The best pineapple tarts she had ever tasted. The bottle was empty in a matter of minutes.
Elle was hooked.
The urge was irresistible. Elle dashed out of the house in search of the girl. The little peddler was just a few doors away, trying to sell the next bottle to her neighbour. Elle rushed forward just in time to say to her stout neighbour, Mrs Singh, “Sorry, the bottle is sold, all sold for the day!” She pushed the girl right back outside her door and bought the whole box of twenty bottles. It made the girl's day. Elle could see her skipping all the way, with her pony-tails bounching in the wind.
Elle was reprimanded by her mother of course for buying so many tarts. Still, undoubtedly, those tarts were definitely the - best - tarts ever.
“What do you want?” Elle bellowed in frustration.
“Would you like to buy some pineapple tarts? They are really delicious!” the little girl lifted her whole box of pineapple tarts in her face.
“Goodness gracious me! You woke me up just to taste your pineapple tart!” Elle smacked her forehead in disbelief.
The little girl swallowed a stone in her throat and took out one. “Try it. You will like it,” she replied, hoping that Elle would at least sample it.
Elle refused and gruffily brushed her hand off, causing the tart to drop and it flew to the cement ground and broke into crumbs.
Salty tears brimmed in the little girl's eyes and splashed onto her collar. Her nose turned red and watery too. Bowing her head, she uttered in a soft “sorry” and turned to walk towards the next neighbour.
As she plodded off, Elle suddenly felt stricken with guilt. How could she be so mean to a little girl when all she wanted was to sell some tarts? Overwhelmed with pity, she called out to the girl, “Hey kiddo, come back now!”
The girl turned around and wiped off her tears with her torn sleeves. This time, a faint grin flashed across her face. “How much is a bottle?” Elle asked in a kinder tone.
“Only five dollars a bottle,” she replied. “I will buy one bottle but don't ring my doorbell again, promise?” Elle warned gravely.
“Promise!” she nodded profusely.
Elle pushed five dollars into her tiny fingers and got her tarts. Curious, she popped one in her mouth.
And another.
And the next one.
They were - heavenly. The crust was soft and buttery and the pineapple jam was sweet and melted in her mouth. The best pineapple tarts she had ever tasted. The bottle was empty in a matter of minutes.
Elle was hooked.
The urge was irresistible. Elle dashed out of the house in search of the girl. The little peddler was just a few doors away, trying to sell the next bottle to her neighbour. Elle rushed forward just in time to say to her stout neighbour, Mrs Singh, “Sorry, the bottle is sold, all sold for the day!” She pushed the girl right back outside her door and bought the whole box of twenty bottles. It made the girl's day. Elle could see her skipping all the way, with her pony-tails bounching in the wind.
Elle was reprimanded by her mother of course for buying so many tarts. Still, undoubtedly, those tarts were definitely the - best - tarts ever.
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