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The Race

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Her bare feet pound the rough forest floor
She spots the lantern and sprints,
Her chest ready to explode
The sound of hounds in the distance
Brings chills to her already frozen body,
Her tattered dress provides no warmth
Faster and faster,
Dodging tree branches,
Afraid that her master might catch up with her.
Into the yard,
Up the porch and pounding on the door
Hoping that this is the right home
Or could it be a trap?
The door opens,
A kind face quickly ushers her in,
She is hid away and can finally breathe a sigh of relief
Her race is finished for tonight.





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LastChapter said...
Dec. 12, 2010 at 9:26 pm
but is her race ever really over? think about it. even if she does get to the north, her life will always be spent running to somewhere, from someone. if you wanted to extend this, you should say how she has to stay cramped in hidden holes while the dogs sniff out the house. imagine the fear. there's so much emotion and drama, you could easily make this into a longer piece if you wanted. either way, i liked it
 
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