On one evening, sometime in 2009, Chuck, our writers' meeting leader, gave us a picture to look at. It was a picture of a bare room, it had a window with no curtains, ... on the floor was an oriental rug and a teddy bear. There were 2 pictures on the wall. Of course, as usual, he said we had 20 minutes.... go! :)
Below is pretty much what came out.... cleaned up about 5% later.
It was a night of rage, not long ago. Outside, a violent storm broke the blackness with streaks of lightning. Rolls of thunder shook the home.
Inside, the electrical movement of a mother's protection.....
"He can't find us here," the mother anxiously said to her child, as she tightly embraced the toddler to her chest.
Like a strobe light, flashes of lightning minutes before, through a window without curtains, showed a mother run into the room--bend down--sweep the child into her arms, his teddy bear fell to the oriental rug--her silhouette move away--and then the room bare.
Amid the simultaneous rolls of thunder, the night had heard her call out, the brief cry of the boy, the closing of a makeshift door, and the slamming of a distant door.
Now she was secluded and laid her sleepy son next to her legs.
Soon after, a flash of light streamed into the room--its path focused, searching quickly back and forth. From the door to each wall and covering the floor...over the lone teddy bear, light came and proceeded to move erratically. The rage had entered.
The light dropped to the carrier's feet as the door to the room shut, and a locking of it was heard.
Sounds of rushing footsteps moved into the hallway. The next room examined. Again, a locking of the door and more footsteps heard, farther away.
The woman sat crouched in the hidden closet-size room. Three inner deadbolts double-checked were on her secret door. She heard his footsteps above, climbing the staircase, it seemed two at a time.
Rolling thunder and the pelting of rain continued.
She hoped the storm inside the house would go away. Her heart beat against her ribs. She looked down at her child with blond curls, asleep on his favorite sheet laid over a thick lambskin rug. A dim nightlight glowed onto them. She looked up to the base of the stairs that was now her angled ceiling. To her right, on the secret door, she looked at her taped picture of her and her child. A quote of Einstein's was paper clipped on it.
At the speed of light I'll get away sometime, she thought and began to feel thinning of her chest's fear. She took a sip from a water bottle, screwed the top and set it beside a few more non-perishable foods. For now, this is my safe place, she thought and rested her head on a feather pillow. She'd figure out what to say in the morning.