The Shop :: English Literature Essays

The Shop The sound made Elizabeth jump. Yet again it had come from the shop next door. She frowned at the old, battered doors of the ancient antique store. It was as though the owner was renovating. The problem was, the shop did not have one. The owner had won the lottery and moved to Las Vegas a few months ago. Leaving his battered old shop and all the merchandise behind. Elizabeth had called the police three times but nobody was found. The police weren’t very pleased after the third time. Anyway, even if the store was unguarded Elizabeth doubted there would be any looters – most of the merchandise was dragged from the local dump. SMASH Elizabeth jumped again. The noise was replaced by the loud, sharp shriek of an electric drill gnawing at the wall. The ground seemed to shake at the loud, shrill noise. Elizabeth covered her ears. She was very annoyed now. The noise next door has been going night and day for the past three days, and because she lived at the back of her boutique she couldn’t get a wink of sleep. A truck pulled up next to the boutique, two extremely hairy and extremely tattooed men came out the back and began unloading boxes marked â€Å"summer drs† onto the footpath. After about ten boxes were stacked not–so–neatly next to Elizabeth’s feet the men got back in the truck and started the engines. â€Å"Wait a minute!† shouted Elizabeth. â€Å"You need to put these in my store!† â€Å"That’s your problem lady, not ours.† One of the men jeered, his friend laughed and slapped him on the back, and with that they were gone. Their outdated truck spewing out a line of thick, black exhaust. â€Å"You good–for–nothing bastards!† Elizabeth screamed at the truck as she picked up a stone and threw it. Miraculously it flew right through the driver’s window. The truck swerved, scattering a mass of boxes big and small on the road, and stopped. The driver came out with a bruise on the side of his head, his friend followed and shouted, â€Å"Hey lady! You stupid or something? We could’ve been killed! You gotta help us pick this mess up!† â€Å"That’s your problem!† Elizabeth called back as she hauled on of the boxes into her store. When she finally finished with the boxes, it was already midday. Elizabeth wiped her forehead with her sleeve and went inside to make herself a cup of cappuccino†¦