Ugandan People
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Music by this guy
The cheese fell off the shelf. She became excited again and bit her lip.
"Erm, um, hi, Emma. I-I was wondering if-if you-we could come home?"
"Sounds good," said Emma, looking down at the few shells left on the table.
The other three stopped eating. "Where do you live? My dad lives there, and he's not interested."
Emma took the shell out of her mouth and looked at it thoughtfully. "Haven't checked the maps, but I-I imagine mine is in Winslow."
"Well, I thought you lived there? You're not from around here, are you?" asked the first boy. "
"You're from the South, Harry. It's called New England." Harry didn't understand.
"Here, listen," said the second boy. "Harry, would you like to see the Stone?" Harry looked at him, puzzled. "It's inside the Castle. Harry," said the third boy. "Listen to this one." He held out a piece of parchment. It was painted brown with gold lettering, about two inches tall and five inches wide. He held it out again. Harry held it a third time, looking at it carefully. It had the same gold lettering, but the numbers were all crossed out.
"Do you know what this is?" Charlie asked. He knew the store clerk by name, Nick, but had no idea who he was.
"I know I'd buy it if I was in one of your classes." Nick said.
"Would you like to know who wrote the bill?" Charlie asked, almost wanting to brag. He had never had anyone read it over and decided it was important enough to ask.
"Not if you tell me who I want to know." Nick said, grinning.
In the corner was an extremely thin, old map of an island and in the center was a bright green owl, its face faintly illuminated by the light of the recharged staff. The male green owl stood in an attitude of an alarm, buzzing off. In the old map, an island was marked with a vertical line and under it a number. The number 4, to a very familiar, and angry, old man.
"Laxus!" The old man's shouts, "Owls, wake up!"
The brown-eared owl swiveled in his head, and a faint screech drifted from him. His features grew more creased as he struggled to shut up.
"Ahh!" The bird wheezed, unable to breathe. His eye appeared to have shrunk with the disappointment of his failure. After a second or two, he whimpered again, before flying back to his nest.
"Does that mean the peach sack has already been opened?" Vizard asked after a moment of contemplation.
"Who knows?" Clank answered, his voice cold as ice. He looked over at his father with a terrified expression. "Dad! Help me! It's a ghost! It's a ghost!" He pointed at the box sitting right on the floor.
"Who cares what a ghost is?" John replied. "I'm just glad you're okay."
"No!" Clank cried out, flinging his arms out and his head back in annoyance.
"You don't understand! To you, we have very little rights!" Twinkle said. "We have no rights, no community, no protections. We're all noobs just trying to survive, I tell you."
