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The Statue
Rated: ASR | Short Story | Action/Adventure | #1812860
He reached for the treasure that would save his life....
         His taut fingers reaching out as far as they could scope, hanging on for life with the other arm. He strained his muscles, reaching, his fingertips grasping at the treasure that would save his life.
         Around him the cave shook, rubble tumbling from the natural roof above.
         The tip of his fingers scathed the statue, the rough ceramic perched inside of the giant golden bowl atop of the pedestal. Almost there.
         Then from above him, the monkey came swooping down from nowhere. He saw it come, heard it screech over the din of the room coming down upon him.
         It was going to reach the hoard before him.
         Almost there.
         He stretched further, his fingers finally getting a hold on the terracotta, snatching it towards his chest. The monkey flew past the empty stand and came back to stop on top of it.
         Jensen clutched the treasure to his chest as he fell backwards away from the room. But there was no time to stop. He had claimed his prize, but the booby trap accidentally set off when he entered the room meant that he had no time.
         Jumping backwards, he landed on his feet, racing for the opening that was the door to the would-be dungeon. His legs pumped, his arms swinging wildly as he frantically sprinted towards the ever-closing gap.
         Ten more paces. Five. Two.
         He leaped, throwing his body at the now small crevice in the wall. As he dived, he felt his shoulder graze a rock, but his momentum carried on and he was through, he was free. And the evil monkey who had plagued him through the dark passageways was trapped in the prison.
         Triumphant, he yelled, pumping his fist in the air.
© Copyright 2011 blue jellybaby is BLUE! (UN: joanne4eva at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
blue jellybaby is BLUE! has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
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