The monster


July 5, 2013 by talkaboutyork

I have been wading my way through the kids school books from this last year, before storing them in a large box that shall live in the garage for years and years gathering dust, until one day we will find it and say, ‘Oh wow, look at how young and sweet you once were. See how far you’ve come.’

And the boys, now fully grown and towering over me, with deep voices and hairy legs and stubble on their chins, will spend a rainy afternoon poring over their old books, leaving a vast mess everywhere, still not quite grown up enough to remember to tidy up after themselves. And then I’ll nag them, saying that they are their books and they should either keep them or chuck them, and they’ll roll their eyes at each other and put it all straight in the bin, while I surreptitiously try to sneak some pieces out.

Anyway, back to now. I have found a story written by my nine year old, which I thought was rather good, if a little gory. I know that this final version has probably gone through several drafts, no doubt with plenty of help from his teacher. But this is the version I found so I thought I’d share it with you. It will also serve as a lasting digital record so that one day when he does put it all in the bin, there will still be a copy of it. The accompanying picture is his too.

The Monster


One sunny day in April, I was plumbing at someone’s house when I came across a strange mumbling sound. It was coming from the air vent to my left. I tip-toed over nervously. A creature no bigger than a tooth-pick was peering into a miniature cupboard filled with amber gloves that had razor-sharp blades on the fingers. It took a pair. The ears of the beast twitched, it slowly bent down and opened a tiny trapdoor and turned around. A dragon emerged from the hole. The creature launched itself onto the dragon and sped away in the blink of an eye.

This monster flew as quickly and silently as an arrow in flight on his pet dragon. It came into land gliding gracefully into the air vent which was packed with soft moss to create its den.

The tiny creature had a round jet black body which was covered in long wiry hair. Its fiery eyes blinked in the most amazing way as they closed from four sides towards the centre of its eye and out again. It had two long flexible arms and the hands were hidden in the amber gloves. His dragon was pale grey and its eyes were as black as the night sky.

After the monster was gone I stood gazing at the tiny little hatch in the ground wondering how the dragon got through so easily. I carried on plumbing. Minutes later the same mumble was coming from the left air vent. I walked over; the little beast was tearing apart rats, thousands and thousands of rats. Blood was flowing over everything. The little monster saw me and fled through the window, leaving behind a trail of glass and blood. 

If you ever meet this frightening beast, run and don’t look back; it might be the last thing you ever do!


One thought on “The monster

  1. Iota says:

    “A creature no bigger than a tooth-pick”. What a great line.

    I think the story should have a sub-title: “Carry On Plumbing”.

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