Inspirational English, Issue 39, July/Aug 2017 Inspirational English, Issue 39 July Aug 2017 | Page 18

Continued from previous page
The boy started his way without even asking who or
why. The noise of the party receded and it started
getting darker and darker. He stood a bit away from
an oak tree, glared at its loftiness and whispered:
“Where are they hiding? Those ghosts of the dark?”
He shivered.
The image of dancing at the party had faded and
clinking and cheering had vanished. His footsteps
didn’t rustle and the swinging of his arms didn’t hiss.
There was but a chilling silence.
He raised his head to the top then lowered it to
glance at the large trunks on the floor and their
ankles. He saw nothing but he felt it there,
somewhere.
A noise broke out from the thick branches.
He didn’t distinguish what it was. It got back into the
branches. He stood. He thought that he had to
understand but, instead, regretted having glutted
himself with a false courage and fake.
The thing went back. It was an owl. It hooted and
flapped inches over his head.
- blurted he.
He felt damp between his legs –I wetted..- he slapped his thighs.
He staggered, kicked a stone and tumbled. He groaned and held back a scream for fear he might expose
himself to them. He got up and moved straight ahead. He didn’t want to look anywhere else:–
There were no spark of a human being, no thread of a path. There was no sign of rest in him, either.
The farther he moved, the more he became aware of his surrounding: -
. He tried to assure himself. Yet, the hairs on his neck stood up. He touched the nearest branch trying to
tighten his grip on it but it pricked. He stifled a pain. He stood still and pulled out a thorn.
"Grasshopperboy" By Ezzeddine Cherni
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