The Escape

Louis is being followed by a shadow...

  When Louis saw a shadow creeping up towards his house he was relatively sure it wasn’t a friend, so he quickly stuffed his most important possessions in a bag and ran. This was a relatively simple deduction, for two reasons.

  One, Louis had no friends. It was commonly agreed around the docks that he was a no-good scoundrel and pickpocket and that he had poor personal hygiene. And this was coming from sailors and tavern wrenches that averaged around one bath a year, the latter taking it in turns and reusing the water. (This was reflected in their prices. After bath-day Freshwater Frederica was occasionally visited by officers and the like whereas Swillwater Sallie’s only customer was a man whose nose had been cut off and eyes plucked out as punishment for robbing a respectable perfume & petticoat store).

  The second reason was that it wasn’t just a shadow cast by a person that Louis saw. No, it was a shadow, in the most literal sense of the word, in the way that you and me cast shadows on sunny days while sucking on popsicles. Except this shadow didn’t bring to mind any connotations of anything pleasant at all, neither sunshine nor popsicles. It looked vile, and threatening, and it hissed slightly as it advanced along the slimy cobblestone path, looking for prey. Louis didn’t want to risk that prey being him.

  Packing his leather bag wasn’t too hard either, seeing as Louis didn’t own much apart from the bag. He had a diary, a pocket-knife, a couple of coins and a small, strangely shaped parcel wrapped in brown paper, which he tucked in last, at the top of the bag, hoping it wouldn’t break. Then he threw the bag over his shoulder and set off swiftly into the night…

The End

0 comments about this story Feed