RunningA Story by Alana Michele
The street was wide and sloped gently upward ahead of me. The Cobb
estones crisscrossed in patterns as my bare and blistered feet slammed against them. I tucked my brown package deep into the curve of my arm. The threadbare scarf flapped at my face. My lungs screamed for air, but I couldn't stop. The path in front of me swerved to the left as I rushed through network of buildings. A red door accosted me, the paint cracked and peeling. My scrawny body had just enough time to fall into the shadows and press into the wall before I could hear running feet pounding against the stone. "I saw him go in here!" A voice thundered. "No. He turned right!" "Then get moving!" A third snarled. I waited until I heard the men galumph away and then crawled out of the shadow to a stream of sunlight the hit the dust-covered floor. Spider webs wavered with my shallow breath as I pulled my gain from underneath my green tattered coat. Gingerly, I began to peel away the layers of brown paper and uncover my prize.
© 2014 Alana Michele |
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Added on June 10, 2014 Last Updated on June 10, 2014 Author
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