- Pronouns
- He/Him
icefire120
Good
.. As the morning approached, and the morning frost glistened on the windows.. a man made his way down the road.. drunken, mad, and stubborn. You could see it in his walk. The way he stomped in the snow, the crunch it made as he passed by others. He smelled of ale so foul that men looked away at the sight.. and the stench.. of his approach. His filthy green and brown robes covered him from head to toe. Covered in dirt, mud, and stains. A flop of greasy brown hair covered his head, going right down to his shimmering blue eyes.
From inside the small shop, the boy could hear the man approaching from his nightly drinking and gambling. Bright green eyes gleamed through the frosted window to catch glimpse of the man the child feared most. Quickly, and without hesitation, the boy turned to what he was writing in his small notebook. He shoved it within his coat pocket, scrambling around the main floor of the building to get himself ready. A look of panic crossed the child's face as he moved through the shop, picking up the utter mess from the nights escapades. He should have done all this hours ago before the keeper returned, but he was so distracted with writing that he never left his small desk in the back room.
He heard the lock turn and click lightly as he ran to his room, shutting the wooden door with a thud. Sitting in the corner of the back room, he listened for the approach.
.. The wooden floors creaked as he heard the man make his way through the shop, inspecting. Faint grumbles are heard as he lifts objects from the shelves, studying them. The boy, shaking in his room.. waits for what is to come. Suddenly, the creaking stops.
After a moment or so, it picks up. This time, louder. Much louder. It comes closer to the room.. close.. so close..
And the door flings open, the grimy keeper entering the room, his face beat red..
The boy was crying.. waiting. And the raspy voice of the mucky man spoke.
"Get ready, now. Get out there, and clean this place from top to bottom. If I see a single bit of dust in my shop, boy, I'll rip every strand of that hair from your head."
The boy nodded quietly, a look of pure fear on his face.
"You are a shame to your parents name. No wonder they left you here with me while they researched. Move, Athryl. Stop disappointing."
The small red-haired boy scurried out of the room, tears rolling down his cheeks.
From inside the small shop, the boy could hear the man approaching from his nightly drinking and gambling. Bright green eyes gleamed through the frosted window to catch glimpse of the man the child feared most. Quickly, and without hesitation, the boy turned to what he was writing in his small notebook. He shoved it within his coat pocket, scrambling around the main floor of the building to get himself ready. A look of panic crossed the child's face as he moved through the shop, picking up the utter mess from the nights escapades. He should have done all this hours ago before the keeper returned, but he was so distracted with writing that he never left his small desk in the back room.
He heard the lock turn and click lightly as he ran to his room, shutting the wooden door with a thud. Sitting in the corner of the back room, he listened for the approach.
.. The wooden floors creaked as he heard the man make his way through the shop, inspecting. Faint grumbles are heard as he lifts objects from the shelves, studying them. The boy, shaking in his room.. waits for what is to come. Suddenly, the creaking stops.
After a moment or so, it picks up. This time, louder. Much louder. It comes closer to the room.. close.. so close..
And the door flings open, the grimy keeper entering the room, his face beat red..
The boy was crying.. waiting. And the raspy voice of the mucky man spoke.
"Get ready, now. Get out there, and clean this place from top to bottom. If I see a single bit of dust in my shop, boy, I'll rip every strand of that hair from your head."
The boy nodded quietly, a look of pure fear on his face.
"You are a shame to your parents name. No wonder they left you here with me while they researched. Move, Athryl. Stop disappointing."
The small red-haired boy scurried out of the room, tears rolling down his cheeks.
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