PHOTO PROMPT © Jeff Arnold
The stomp of boots echoes up the narrow stairwell.
Anton scrambles out of bed to the attic room door, rams the bolt home. His fingers describe a sigil in the air as he mutters a holding spell. It won’t stop them, but it might buy him time.
On his desk, a manual typewriter – black and gold, antique. He creates another spell over the keys and begins to type…
…In a cottage in the deep forest, an identical typewriter rattles to life, the keys tapping out a message.
I am discovered. Take the children. Never stop running. Love always.