A Light Year

Back in my high school years I wrote this short children's story for my english 'creative writing' coursework. I don't think there was anyone who had been brave enough to try a children's story but after an inspiring little motorway journey where I wondered what the lampposts must think of us if they were alive, I took the risk and managed to get an A* for my work. I'm still proud of it to this day, here it is...

A Light Year

By Rishi Patel

6pm. Shine time. As I brighten up I hope to see a different scene, but as usual I scan the same old plain bland grey figures, each having white chunks neatly sprawled across them. I yawn as I turn side to side. When the noisy metal boxes stop going past, I sometimes wonder whether the white signs are for the other animals outside in space. I wouldn’t want them to come here, they might bring the big round yellow blob with them. We would never have shine time again!

I turn around to see if Linkey had lit up. Whenever I’m down he’s always by my side. We’ve wondered about many things, like how do the metal boxes move? What are the white signs for? And most importantly, what is the meaning of light?

So here I am. In the same scenery I’ve been in for what seems like light-years. The days take so long, minutes turn to hours, but yet I am still here, with not a care in the world. As I’m illuminating a sudden shock reaches my circulation system. I could feel the electricity pumping around my leg. Linkey wasn’t lit up. I could hear the silence, and the feel of electricity turned into taste as I started to sparkle. The stiffness of the air was all I could see. I panicked, I flickered, but there was nothing I could do, for the first time in a light-year Linkey wasn’t shining!

I’ve heard the stories, about how one got shattered to pieces, chucked in a hefty metal box, and was soon replaced. That’s another thing I’ve been imagining when Linkey’s asleep, dread slips into my thoughts as I wonder what light would be like if I had an outshining neighbour.

Now I had to play the waiting game, waiting to see if he shines half way through the day, there’s so much I need to tell him. Waiting to discuss the white signs, and the grey lines. The waiting turned from an event to an eternity. Then the afright that encircles around my mind oozes out of my eyes as the familiar red metal box, bigger than the ordinary ones, parked up. The agressive animal looking feverish and irate began to climb up Linkey’s long leg. I felt anger. Rage. Why does it have to do this? I couldn’t watch, I couldn’t witness the dismantlement of my own friend.

I couldn’t hear much, apart from the odd devious metal box that went past, departing with a ghast of wind which shook me to the left. There was one night, when I heard a soft voice stressing about the world being too hot because of metal boxes. Since then, whenever one of them goes past I feel a distance from them, like they are horrible evil monsters.

Then some other light shone, flourescently beaming more than any of us. Oh no! Shine time was over! But why wasn’t I getting to sleep? I turned to see if the animal in the light yellow coat had gone, but it had started climbing down. I flickered twice and realised - Linkey was alight!

“You’re a bit late Linkey! Shine time was 6pm today!” My thoughts were repeatedly running around my circuit, Linkey was alive, but the animal hadn’t dismantled him. I suddenly felt for the much smaller animal as I noticed it struggling down Linkey’s leg. But even though it was small it still climbed to save another. I tried to smile to it but it couldn’t notice me. As it drove away in it’s red metal box, I turned to Linkey to wonder about the metal boxes, the white signs, but most importantly the meaning of light.

As Big Ben strikes 6am the two lamp-posts begin to dim, and prepare for another street-light day. Like a sudden click, Linkey and company flicker off.