Although I’m a little bit late, I still have brought you a little piece of my work:
The moon hung full, dipping towards the horizon like a satisfied sow. From the fields, the harsh echo of Mandie’s cry still played in the ears of Mr. Robinson. He stepped out, his cold eyes sweeping the extent of the plantation. His plantation. A grin played on his face, self-satisfied with the notion. Then he spotted it. A dark figure running across the border of the trees. A runaway. Mr. Robinson grabbed his gun, inwardly fuming about the escape. He didn’t capture these children for nothing. Their magic would keep the farm alive for years! And he wasn’t letting any escape. He whipped around, ready to shoot. A silent, still plantation greeted his eyes. The figure had vanished, like soap in cold water.
What do you think?