The Kentucky Fried Chicken Original Writing
There I was, stumbling through the lashing wet, windy weather on my way back from the Kentucky Fried Chicken after purchasing a large bucket of chicken at a great expense. As I passed the local bakery, the delicious smell of freshly baked bread filled my nostrils, which was soon to be replaced by cooking oil from the fish and chips shop next door. My stomach felt sickly with the combined aromas, but lengthy queues in both stores indicated that not everyone had the same opinion as I did about the smell.
I noticed a black bag in a spotlight of colourful neon lights on the side of the kerb shuffling around in the breeze like a newborn baby. Unsure of the contents, I panicked. My eyes gazed at the streetlights that glistened like a Christmas tree. They were reflected in the shop windows that displayed mouth-watering cakes, bread, groceries, a variety of continental fruits and vegetables, as well as colourful fashionable clothes.
On the corner of the road, there was a brightly lit car showroom full of gleaming new Mercedes, which drew me to the window. As I gazed enviously through the window, I was startled by the deafening wail of a siren which had blue flashing lights rotating rapidly on top of a huge red vehicle that raced past me.
Car horns beeped, windscreen wipers swishing back and forth, as cars accelerated above the speed limit; the drivers and their passengers all had the same thought in mind: getting home from this dreadful weather. Traffic built up and ground to a standstill as the traffic lights appeared to have a malfunction, causing major delays. Engines revved with impatience. I witnessed two drivers exchanging furious words over a parking space, while passengers waited patiently for their local bus to take them home. Some pedestrians got splashed with dirty water as thoughtless drivers sped through puddles.
Commuters appeared from nowhere as if there had been a riot in the area. I realized as I heard the mournful sound of the train horn coming from the station close to home that this was the reason for this strange mass of people. Some people were running desperately for shelter, as they were inadequately dressed for the inclement weather.
An old drunken man, dressed in rough, ragged clothes, staggered along the street. He approached an apprehensive passer-by I had seen earlier on in the vicinity requesting spare change. I did not wait to hear the passer-by’s response as my clothes were completely drenched from the rain. The relentless rain pelted down heavily, so I decided to pick up the pace because I could smell the sweet spices of chicken wafting from the chicken bucket I carried, which probably began to get cold. I remembered that my mother was waiting for her meal and I was feeling quite peckish myself.
As I approached a narrow, dark alleyway, I was striving through the sharp, cold, icy, wind beating against my face. An enormous clap of thunder quickly followed with a strike of lightning from the heavens. I dropped the bucket of chicken in fear into a pool of mud. A sensation of fear and panic tingled through my body and my heart skipped a beat. I heard a dog barking continuously from a neighbouring garden over a red brick wall. I picked up my bucket, checked to see what state it was in, in discovering that the contents were still in good condition, I continued on my journey.
The anxiety and fear I had experienced earlier had disappeared within me and transformed to happiness and warmth, as I drew nearer to my home. I sighed with relief and jingled my keys with delight at the front door to my house. I turned my key in the lock, and the door swung open, revealing my Mother’s angry face. I had delayed her dinner!
