VIP - part six Short story

[Bassim]

Please, would you proofread part six of my short story.

The Mayor ate his lunch and then took a nap as he had done all these years. When the outside was scorching hot the best was to close all doors and windows, pull down Venetian blinds and drown in the coolness of dreams.
It was deep sounds of tubas and trombones in the combinations with the drum which woke him up and reminded him of the importance of the hours to come.
This day could change not only his own life but the life of the whole town, he thought pulling on his clothes in front of the mirror. He did not like to wear a tie, especially in this weather, but he had to be properly dressed if he wanted to leave a good impression on VIP. He decided to wear a dark suit with a matching pair of trousers and a white shirt with a black tie. When he opened to door a gust of hot air hit him in the face and he thought for a moment to run back into the pleasant coolness of his home.

But he saw his wife already sitting in a front row waving her black folding fan. She was dressed in white clothes with a white Panama hat on her head. Her jewellery glittered in the sun. All seats where occupied except VIP's and his own. In the front rows sat politicians, intellectuals, the self-employed, doctors and other important persons. Behind them a crowd of thousands persons sat and stood patiently. Many of them had already been waited for hours and the Major felt pity for them again. He wondered where had they found energy and the will to stand the merciless sun. When the crowd saw him they cheered and he waved back to them. He shook hands with some people in the first rows and then took his seat beside his wife. The orchestra had been playing tirelessly although drops of sweat trickled down their faces.

Time passed slowly and the golden sun moved slowly westward. The orchestra stopped playing, its members looked like a thirsty horses lost in a desert. Minutes passed and then hours. Everyone was still waiting and the mood was optimistic despite long overdue. The Mayor was still hopeful. His wife felt a little bit exhausted of all waving with her hand but she did not complained either. Two party leaders chatted with their assistants making last preparations for the decisive moment. In the crowd, people were telling jokes; they chuckled and guffawed.

To be continued...

[Anglika]

Please, would you proofread part six of my short story.

The Mayor ate his lunch and then took a nap afterwards, as he had done all these years. When the outside was scorching hot, the best thing to do was to close all doors and windows, pull down the Venetian blinds and drown in the coolness of dreams.
It was deep sounds of tubas and trombones in combination with a drum that woke him up and reminded him of the importance of the hours to come.
This day could change not only his own life but the life of the whole town, he thought, pulling on his clothes in front of the mirror. He did not like to wear a tie, especially in this weather, but he had to be properly dressed if he wanted to make a good impression on the VIP. He decided to wear a dark suit with a matching pair of trousers[omit - a suit is a jacket and trousers, so you do not need to say it] and a white shirt with a black tie. When he opened the door, a gust of hot air hit him in the face and he thought for a moment about running back into the pleasant coolness of his home.

But he saw his wife already sitting in a front row waving her black folding fan. She was dressed in white clothes with a white Panama hat on her head. Her jewellery glittered in the sun. All seats were occupied except the VIP's and his own. In the front rows sat politicians, intellectuals, the self-employed, doctors and other important persons. Behind them a crowd of thousands of people sat and stood patiently. Many of them had already been waiting for hours and the Major felt pity for them again. He wondered where they had found the energy and the will to stand in the merciless sun. When the crowd saw him they cheered and he waved back to them. He shook hands with some people in the first rows and then took his seat beside his wife. The orchestra had been playing tirelessly although drops of sweat trickled down their faces.

Time passed slowly and the golden sun moved slowly westward. The orchestra stopped playing, its members looked like thirsty horses lost in a desert. Minutes passed and then hours. Everyone was still waiting and the mood was optimistic despite everything. The Mayor was still hopeful. His wife felt a little bit exhausted with all the waving of her hand but she did not complain either. Two party leaders chatted with their assistants, making last preparations for the decisive moment. In the crowd, people were telling jokes; they chuckled and guffawed.

To be continued...

.

[Bassim]

Dear Anglika.
Thank you very much. I will repeat what I have already said before, and say again that you are a treasure. Unfortunately, people like you are rare nowadays.

You and Svaneska have helped me so much and my heart beats with joy when I am thinking of you.

Have a nice day!

Bassim