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Story of a Scavenger

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Story of a Scavenger As the moon settled in for an evening view of the city, a curious eye looking down on London, the human inhabitants slowly deserted the streets. The moon shone innocence and purity, a white light of security leading the last few to their homes. To the left, off the main street, a young gentleman and his sweetheart, hand in hand, walked down a floodlight path towards a white building. On the other side a family of four, one child wide awake and full of energy tugging on his mother's hand, and the second fast asleep in his fathers arms, moved contentedly towards their cozy home. ...read more.


They gave off a peculiar energy, as did the famished little creatures now swarming the streets. A decaying wooden door in one corner of the long boulevard creaked open and out onto the pebbled doorway stepped a handsome man in his forties, with a somewhat familiar look. He wore a long, black, leather coat and bore a hat on his head. In his left hand he clasped an intense orange flare, the naked flame of which offered a vivid source of light. As it danced and flickered the flame felt by turns almost romantic, and then hellish. In a dark alleyway, close to the house of the oh-so-happy family of four, a ragged mongrel dog rummaged though the filth in competition with the other pests, in order to get its supply of food. ...read more.


The gentleman continued his walk down the lane, appearing relaxed and casual under the cover of the night, like never in the day, with his flare held high. It was now in his left hand. The flame flickered, offering alternate images of peace and torment as it burnt the oxygen in its surroundings. When the gentleman approached the gutter, the dog began to howl. The wind at that moment howled harder and the dog was in no luck, howling so loudly but not loudly enough to be heard. The competition this time was far too strong. The fight was lost. The flare swung round once. Then again, and the howling continued, but the dog struggled against the flame and against the sudden gale. It was as if the evil deed and the weather itself were working hand in hand.... Chiara Brignone UVA ...read more.

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