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It was a bright cold autumnal morning as bare trees waved their empty branches to the sky .The bare silence broke through the laughter of the children horsing around in the school playground.

As I make my way up the cobble pathway sluggishly, the sound








construction site .They were rebuilding the old town library that once stood beautifully.

The workers in yellow high vis and helmets suddenly stopped with amazement, leaning on their shovels for support with their mouths dropped to the floor. They were huddled in a circle with the fear at what might happen next.

As I walked on my tiptoe’s silently toward the metal cylinder, I wanted to get a closer look. I could hear the whispers of the workers. I could only make

out parts of

their whispering conversation.

They were talking about volunteering to remove the oddly shaped black bag.

I tried to make my way towards the yellow shaped pick-up truck in which a fair haired man was heavily snoring in, in order to get a better view at what the men were staring at. I watched patiently for a little while knowing I had had to leave before the school bell rang.

The fair haired man was awoken by his cell phone ringing. The man jumped and split hot coffee on him and cursed with pain. He opened the door quickly and started to walk towards the group of workers, dropping his travel mug and what was left of the coffee .The crash of the mug sounded like a pounding on a wall.

I could feel the vibration rattling through my bones as it fell fast as lightning. A black s.u.v arrived at the site. Three men got out of the car. The two were in black suits and the third man was in a white lab coat. He wasn’t as strong or tall as the other men .

He was carrying a black briefcase very dramatically towards the group of staring workers. They made a clearing for them to enter the inner circle and what is possessed.

As I watched from afar, I saw what had caused all the commotion. I shrieked “it’s a dead body”. The man turned around to a 90 degree angle.

He quietly but fastly started to walk towards me .My heart was thumping .It felt as if my heart had ran a 10 mile run . I was trying to get myself up .My jacket pocket got caught on a rusted nail in a paling rail.

The tall man was already by my side. He had a deep American accent. I untangled myself from the old rusted nail. I managed to get to my feet. I wobbled. The man glared at me with annoyance.

I ran with all my might and never looked back, the refuge that school offered.


A Curious Child  

A short story by Emily Brannigan