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Sam wanted his uncle to see the drawings before anything marked the paper . They were pencil on thin sheets , in a folder with no cover that could keep water out , and Sam had no bag . He had rubbed at the faces until the paper went soft in those spots . A drop there would show . The street looked bright when he left the flat , and the green door of his uncle's building was only a short walk away . His uncle had asked to see the drawings . Sam was tired of saying they were not ready yet . He was close enough to see the green door clearly when the sunlight went and the street turned grey . Wind got under the folder and lifted one corner . Sam pressed the corner down and kept walking . A woman with a pram turned back toward the shops . Sam almost ran . The door was right there . If he was quick , he would be inside before the rain could really begin , and his uncle would see the pencil lines as they were . A drop hit the folder and left a dark spot on the outside . Then another drop hit his wrist . Sam stopped under the bakery awning , at the shop just before the green door . Running the last bit would only wet the thin paper , and the soft spots would take the mark first . He held the folder flat against his chest and watched the spots on the pavement run together . People hurried past with their shoulders up . Sam stayed where the awning kept the rain off the folder . He did not step out while the rain was still loud on the awning . When it grew light and the pavement was only wet , he walked to the green door with the folder still against his chest . In the hall he wiped his face on his sleeve . He did not open the folder there to look .
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