It's starting to rain

The old fashioned clock says that's it's eleven at night.

The TV's on, showing old fashioned black and white.

There's a woman with too much lipstick and make-up

reporting of a murderer who was finally brought to justice

I see a man in handcuffs, taken away by the police.

Shoved brutally in the back, the man staggers (he almost falls) and straighten himself up.

and turns to stare at the screen and seems to gaze

right through me.

I stare back. His green eyes are very unnerving, they flashed...

Was I the only one who saw that?

He suddenly, without warning, breaks free to

tackle the policeman that was holding him and grabs his gun. Somehow, (I couldn't see since somebody was blocking the camera in the confusion) the handcuffs broke.

"We just got this report! The criminal has escaped in less than a blink of an eye; I'm Sarah Nirra reporting from News Pri-."

I hear four gun shots. The reporter was one of the four who died. I winced in sympathy.

The man starts to run- the police chase after him.

The sky flashes once and screams. The power's out. The TV is dead.

It is pitch black. The rain starts its intense pouring.

(Uncle's out, I wonder if he'll be ok.)

A few seconds pass and I start to wonder what happened to that man…

I feel bored.

Lightning: I see a thick leather book on the table. Thunder.

Feeling my way through, I take a box of matches and light the fire place. The fire

Glowed, casting flickering shadows on the floor. I wrap a blanket around myself and take the book into my lap. I crawl back into the armchair.

I read, Scenes from an Unmoving Picture- a Collection of Short Stories. By the Carefree Historian.

Interesting title… and

Flipping through the book,

I started to read a tale

On a dark and stormy night

A man down the road was

Wrongly accused of unjust.

It seems that he had just lost the police behind him.

He looks at the street telephone pole

There was his picture, one of the only ones where you see his (green) eyes.

A bad photo of him five years ago, when he graduated from high school.

But a photo none-the-less. No one ever took another picture of him since. (and if they did, they didn't live to tell the tale.)

Above it said

'Wanted Unknown

For fraud and murder of seventy-two innocent civilians'

For three hundred pounds of gold

And the man under the cloak chuckled

'Woe is me.'

'Woe is me.'

Because they just found him.

White cars and blaring sirens quickly arrive

The police come out with their guns ready, screaming at the man to surrender (they're scared, it's so obvious it's not even funny.)

Helicopters circle 'round in the sky; shining light down on him.

"Put your hands up or we'll shoot!!"

The man starts to run away from the police

He also has a gun (did they forget?)…

It's a chase that will go on forever

The man smiles as he runs at high speeds, his eyes are closed.

He shoots behind him,

Someone behind him falls onto the wet, cold cement.

For it's HIS safety that's most important… defense

(But, he's also enjoying it.)

But, something caught his (green) eyes,

His footsteps slow, he unbelievably, forgets about the police behind him.

And he started to stare at the house in front of him.

Wonder and unknown feelings hold him in place. Magic?

Through a window he sees a warm room, a fireplace,

Where a young girl was reading a story---

On a dark and stormy night,

A man down the road was

Wrongly accused of unjust…

I slammed the book shut as the police sirens outside blared loudly

And tried not to look outside

At the flashing emerald eyes that seem to gaze

Right through me.