We did this piece in my latest English creative reading lesson. It's based on a drawn picture (thanks to Lucy Aaron) and a postcard with the front cover of a novel on it, and was written in about 25 minutes. Enjoy.
He stared from the highest window of the palace, across the white, Russian city. A bear padded slowly away from him, towards the frozen river. It turned, and looked straight towards him, and it was as though there was no more than a metre between them. The bear's cool, dark, black eyes filled his own, staring ones. It snarled. And grew, grew to twice its previous size, and roared. The man stared, not scared, as he knew it was not real.
He blinked.
The bear shrunk, and returned to its original size and position, turned, and carried on its slow trudge through the slow.
The man blinked again.
There was a knock at the door, and the man turned towards it. He carefully walked to the door, and peered through the peep hole. The corridor was dark, but he thought he could see a shape, huge, moving just outside his door.
The man stepped back, and blinked.
He checked the peep hole again, but whatever it was had gone. He turned back to the window, and a long, black tail shot out of view. The man’s breathing quickened, and his heart beat ever louder, as he approached and unlatched the window. He pushed it open, and saw on the sill, a single, solitary red rose. He picked it up.
He blinked.
And the rose was gone, replaced by a black feather. His breathing returned to normal, but just to be sure, he leaned out of the window, and checked the spire above him, just in time to see something, something huge, disappear behind it.
He staggered back inside and blinked.
But he could still hear it, scrabbling above him, panting, making the ceiling creak. A huge, beastly, feathered head slowly lowered itself from above the window, and peered into his room, its eyes a dark, malevolent red.
The man froze, and blinked.
The monster did not disappear. It slowly twisted its entire body around, planting its huge talons into the window frame, crushing it. The man screamed as it made its way inside, staring at him. He ran for the door, but it was bolted from the other side.
He blinked.
The monster was still there, and the man knew he only had one option to escape. He dodged past the creature, and ran for the window.
He blinked as he fell, and the snow changed to grass, and the buildings to trees, and the man smiled. And blinked.
* * *
The police inspected the man’s room. A small bed, a smashed mirror, a suitcase. Nothing out of the ordinary. They searched his possessions. A watch, a toy bear, a single, dead, dandelion. Nothing of interest. They surveyed the walls. Ceiling beams, a single window, the featureless door. Nothing unusual. Other than a single black feather, lying on the crushed window sill.
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