Sasha Campbell English Coursework 21/11/03 A Sense Of Place
The sun shone through the roof of leaves, creating a mottled pattern of light and shadow on the floor. The air in the passageway hung with the fresh smell of leaves and the sugary aroma of flowers. This place was alive with animals in its branches but the only sound was the whispering of the leaves. The bushes that formed walls were overgrown and were forming a thin roof that trapped the light. That passageway led to another and that to another, until one was lost in the labyrinth of leaves.
Suddenly a burst of claws scrabbling against the branches and the crunch of dry leaves echoed down the passageway. Simultaneously the vacant silence was broken as the sound of shoes clopping along the cement slabs awoke everything around. It was a little girl of about seven years old. She had fawn brown hair and round doe-like eyes, big pools of brown that stared in amazement. She wore a dress that layered at the bottom and ruffled around her arms. Her hair sat in perfect waves on her shoulders and she carried a bouquet of freshly picked flowers. Stepping slowly along the passageway, she looked around in awe and made sure her dress did not touch any of the bushes. “Madeline, Madeline,” an elegantly dressed woman hurried after the little girl. She held her dress, which trailed along the ground, many petticoats making it difficult to clear the dirt. She grabbed the little girls hand and swivelled her round, snapping her out of whatever gaze she had fixed upon. The little girl closed her mouth and looked at the woman fearfully. “I’m sorry mother, I just wanted to see.” The woman interrupted her in mid speech, she spoke quickly and without tolerance. “I don not care if you wanted to see Madeline, you will ruin your dress. We are leaving.” She pulled the little girl away towards the exit, as she did the child looked behind her longingly and trailed her fingers along the wall of leaves.
