The painted mirror – part 5

Tim´s throat was hoarse and he hadn´t even begun to shout.

“Robin,” he said. He could only watch his brother mutely. He tried to run after the fleeing figure but found his legs crumble under his weight as he tripped over a rock. The motion of his arms sent the wind-up torch flying out of his hand. It´s light appeared like brilliant stars exploding in the night sky as it twirled upward in the cave before falling with a smash of broken glass.

“Robin,” appealed Tim to the darkness.

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