Larkmead School

“Novelists generally work alone. It was a real surprise for me to suddenly find, in the zone created by ten or twelve minds concentrating upon each of our stories, a subtly different creative energy. Words flowed, from all of our pens, those Wednesday afternoons. What emerged was a mixture of different kinds of stories. There is humour, suspense, danger, fear, love and sadness within these pages.”        

Tim Pears, Writer-in-Residence at Larkmead School

I feel the floor beneath my feet, smooth and cool. In the house the air is still. Every movement feels like a flurry, a splutter of energy in the darkness, and then utter stillness.

I take another step. An owl hoots outside and in the darkness of the wood a wolf bounds from behind a tree and pounces on its prey. And eats.

Another step.

I can remember long ago when I would sneak out of my room at night and creep down the stairs. Down the stairs, until the dark engulfed me and seeped into my eyes until all I could see was black, and the fear of what I couldn’t see took me, and I would run back up the stairs and cower under the duvet, bear in hand, until the nightlight soothed my imagination.

The next step creaks and I look up.

An extract from “The Dark Corridor” by Jenny, a student at Larkmead School

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