Young Writers Society

It was an odd scene displayed on the far side of the riverbank. The guard on duty was puzzled by it. Only minutes ago, stumbling through the rotting shrubbery, the slumped figure of a young woman appeared on the opposite bank. She was covered[s] over[/s] in misshapen rags and cradling a baby in her arms to shelter it from the steady fall of rain.

The guard was torn- not knowing if he should let down the bridge and approach her at the risk of having an escapee, [s](although it was late and he was quite sure there was no one around)[/s] or wait until another guard came. [s]But[/s] However, that was not likely to happen until morning and the rain was beginning to [s]come down[/s] fall hard now. never start a sentence with 'but'

At a final impulse he slowly let down the creaking old bridge and crossed towards the still figure crouched low to the ground. His stomach lurched at the thought of her being dead. He had never been able to stand feeling the cold skin or to look into the dull blank eyes. But as he approached [s]further[/s] he was reassured by the sudden shudder of the woman. [s]Soon [/s]he realized that the closer he got the more[s] and more[/s] elated he began to feel. It was as if the woman was giving off some sort of reassuring pulse. By the time he was within feet of her, he was completely consumed by in this strange feeling. He now felt courageous enough to speak to her.

'Excuse me? Ma'am?' he said confidently. [s]But, [/s]as she looked up into his expectant face, all his previous emotions vanished. Gazing up at him was a face that looked as if it had lived a thousand years of torture. [s]She had sunken blank eyes that were set on a pale thin face[/s] Her eyes were sunken and black and set into a thin pale face. She was clearly undernourished and very poorly dressed. Yes! finally an author who makes a character not extremely beautiful!

The rain continued to pour and washed over her slight figure as she spoke.

'Please,' she whispered, the sound nearly inaudible. She [s]then[/s] thrust her arms out towards the guard. He had completely forgotten the child she had been holding. It seemed quite young- probably not even into its first year. He could tell that this simple act of holding up the child was causing her great pain.[s] In order to relieve her of this[/s] he reached down and took the baby from her trembling arms and cradled it into his own. As soon as he did this he discovered his previous assumptions had been completely wrong. It was not the [s]mother[/s] woman who was giving off the warm and reassuring pulse, but the child. He looked down at the woman again. we don't know that the woman is the mother of the child, and neither does the guard

Her body[s] had [/s] collapsed and sunken into the deep mud along the banks of the river. This time he was positive she was dead, yet the thought did not seem to bother him as it had before. With this[s]-he wasn't sure how to describe it-[/s] child he felt calm and sure of every movement. His confidence abundant, he looked closer at it now and brushed the ragged cloth covering its chest aside. Sitting [s]there[/s] on the child's chest was a tag attached to a string that went all the way around its neck. He lifted it carefully and read the single word written in a hastened scrawl across it:

Mina

excellent story, definitely worth the read . my only suggestion really is detail. details are what really paint the picture, and yours is almost done, but i think it needs a few more brush strokes to complete the work of art. keep on writing!

very good. One thing, I would like to know what the child looked like? apparently it was a girl due to the name but if there had been no name we would not have known. how tall was the woman. where are they? but if you added a teensy bit more description then it was really quite amazing.