I was coming back from school, suddenly I heard the crying of a kitten. I got shocked, there were no tamed kittens in our street and, to my surprise I have also not heard a single mew of any kitten in our street in last two or three years. Following that faint mew, I reached one of the corner of my street that I hated the most, because it was near the dustbin and a smell, somewhat like cabbages was always filled in that atmosphere. But before I could frown on that smell, my expressions changed to a pitiful one. The little grey kitten was in a brown cardboard box, tears felling from her pretty pearly eyes and her little body was wet and cold. Suddenly, I felt very scared. It had not been rained since night. She had been here for a whole rainy night. Without wasting my, actually her, time I brought her home. I knew how my parents would react to this little grey ball of soft fur. But somewhere in the farthest corner of my skull, I thought that they will be kind to her, seeing her wet and cold body and tearful pearly eyes. I went to home and instead of hiding her, I thought this was a thing a stupi.d kindergarten student have done, I called my mom loudly. Well, not wasting my time on what she said and how she reacted, I will tell that this argument was one of those rare one in which I won, not because my excuses were strong but because Oreo, the name given to my kitten, had started trembling with cold and my mom felt that she actually needed our help. I brought her to my room and after drying her with a fluffy blue napkin, I brought her some milk. I hadn't expected her to drink it herself, but she did. In a couple of days, her health was normal. Her grey fur had eventually become softer and her pearly eyes even more crystally. She became my closest friend.
Is this length perfect??
