It roved the halls, its tapping growing louder. The children huddled in the dark corners of the large structure, hoping not to be seen. Tap, tap, tap. Its huge body lugged across the metal floors, making a sort of creaking sound as it passed every corner. One of the children got up. The smallest one, curious and impatient. He strode off into the abyss of black. The tapping sound stopped, almost as if something wonderful happened. The small child had escaped through a crack in the wall. Far too small for any of the other children. He had left them. A small baby's boot was left behind, reflecting off the newly polished floors. A sight that wouldn't last. The colors and reflection seeped together perfectly, making something beautiful. Then, something happened. Light streamed through the windows. Night was over. They had won. They had done it. As the last child crawled through the slimy window, they looked back on the big house. How had they escaped this? This author had never written a good ending before. Was it a good ending though? They would have to trust that this was a good ending. The sun rose on the horizon, creating an orange glow that had only been seen in paintings. This was it. As they farewelled the house and strode off, a baby's cry was heard in the house, an ear piercing scream. Nothing. Oh no.
Fresh Avocado
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