The painted mirror – part 2

They made the decision to enter the cave after packing away the picnic rubbish. Being the eldest Tim approached the entrance first, wind-up flashlight in hand, and Robin came behind, carrying both the rucksacks.

“Promise me you´ll stay near,” said Tim, steadying his hand against the tunnel´s edge. “There could be animals or who knows what?”

“Promise,” said Robin. His eyes gleamed mischievously like they did before he ran off in the supermarket.

“Tim,” said Robin. “If we find treasure, Can I keep it to show at class?”

“If you get off my back,” said Tim. “Yeah, sure.”

And then Tim went in. The start of the journey was easy but soon he was bending to get under tree roots that had pushed into the passage.

The wind-up provided a stuttering light. The frantic whir of its mechanism aumented the dread as much when it peaked as when it fell silent due to aching wrists. With the sun´s absence came a loss of time. The dry heat of the cave stifled like the thin air. Everywhere he pointed the light it appeared as though the space had just been vacated by the barbed and the fanged.

Soon they came to a low chamber and the rucksacks were left behind.


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