Runaway

When the dice finished scattering across my desk, I poked through them, looking for a trio that sparked an idea. As I pushed the cubes around, three of them continued to find the same neighbors. After some debate, I pulled the footprints, compass, and scales from the rest. While this was the most memorable collection from that role, initially, the story stubbornly refused to germinate. So I pushed the prompt out of the way as I continued working on the other rest of the month’s narratives.

When Monday rolled around, I pulled the seed from my notes and a story wriggled its way from the depths of my mind. Despite a rough initial draft, the subsequent drafts flew from my fingertips.

Come, sit down and allow me to give you a mini-escape and kindle your imagination.

Runaway

The scrawny figure kneeled beside the impressions, deftly tracing its edges with a fingertip. His head turned as a grunt cut through the awkward silence. “Do you think this is legitimate?”

“Travis, don’t forget that our runaway doesn’t have many options.” The second tracker squatted across from his companion, as his palms rose and fell like a set of scales, seeking an equilibrium. A click punctuated the outcome as his chest swelled. “However, he’s smarter than most of the staff he escaped.”

“Kevin, are you suggesting we ignore the obscured footprints?”

“No.”

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