Friday, 5 October 2012

The Runaway

The Runaway
Chapter 1

A light flickered in the darkness. Stopping in his tracks, the runaway wiped his muddy hands on his brow and fled. The railway master stepped out onto the platform and held up his candle to the moon. Watching from behind the coal shed was the runaway. He had not finished his mission yet, he could not turn back now. Like every night, the railway master looked from side to side and strolled up and down the platform twice, blew out his candle in a single puff and stepped back inside. This was his cue to go.

Cautiously, the runaway stepped out from behind the shed, taking care not to make a sound. He brushed his long, black, matted hair out of his eyes and crouched down onto all fours. After taking a deep breath, he started to crawl. As black as coal, the concrete underneath him cut his knees, however he didn’t mind. Underneath the windows he crawled, past the door to the lavoritry, past the main entrance, round the corner and he was safe from public eyes. He stood up slowly and brushed his hand on his legs.

Intently, he scanned his horizon for forms of life. Except from a lonely cat there was none. He hawled himself up onto the high window ledge and peered inside. It was hard to see inside, although he could make out a small desk on the far side and a large shelf full of dusty books on the other. Gently, he pushed the window open, to make a big enough gap for him to squeeze through.

He squeezed himself through the gap, onto the inner ledge. The smell of a burning candle loomed around the room. Slowly he lowered himself down to the floor as he closed the window. He had to find the keys. Towards the desk he tiptoed. Hastily he fumbled around the surface of the desk, knocking over a pot of ink and a quill. He found nothing. Worried, he looked around himself, they had to be somewhere. Suddenly he heard something! Loud, heavy footsteps were moving towards him...

Would you like to know what happens next? Well Chapter 2 will be out soon!


  1. Thank you very much Emily, but it's a part of a story, not a poem.


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