Article March 24, 2003 Issue

Andy & Inky

By Traci McNulty

BRRRRRRING! Andy groaned and reached from under his bedcovers to turn off the alarm. Time to get to work. He hated this job. It wasn't the early morning hours. It was being alone in the dark, silent, Scotland fog.

Andy had started his job delivering papers just a few weeks ago, right after his 11th birthday. He would walk the half mile into town, pick up his pile of papers, and begin tossing them at people's doorsteps as he walked up and down the small streets and alleys of Aberdeen.

This morning he moved quickly from house to house, trying not to notice the dark shadows created by the glow of the street lamps. It was cold, and the old stone buildings offered no warmth. Instead, the cold air and fog seemed to cling to the stones. Andy shivered.

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