Short Story: The Night Run

This is a story written by me (The Cuttleboss) as part of my self-challenge to write a story a-day, which I have already failed, but here is a sample, a story with elements of poetry about a millipede:
The Night Run
In the silence, the most piercing sound available is acapella of crickets chirping gracefully at the end of a long and warm day. The temperature has fallen like a domino to only a slight spark of what was seen only hours earlier. The sun is already set to rise on the other side of the globe, setting the stage for a world of darkness here for half of a cycle. A millipede crawls out of a bush of singing crickets and approaches the illuminated pool, which was used earlier.
The creature was on a prowl to find some vegetables dropped on the floor from the party, as it was used to eating well rotted meals and felt it was time for a change. The scent was within his detection, as the carrots offered to the health hating children were thrown to the floor and the mother was unwilling to place them in a dustbin, saying she will procrastinate the assignment until the next day.
The millipede continues to run the miles towards the unmistakable scent of carrots, using all of its 222 legs to drive it’s locomotion towards a night meal. The chirping of the crickets is suddenly replaced by the cawing of crows. The long creature recognized this and began to turn its wheels towards the nearest bush as the nigh-invisible winged beasts swoop from the heavens above, only visible when they came near the blue light of the poisonous pool.
Right before the monsters came to catch the millipede, he had since taken cover in the nearest bush, safe from those predators outside, but not safe from the ones inside the bush. He began to feed on some of the fallen leaves, not seeing the black widow coming down to claim a large meal. The black train was not going to stop for long, as soon as the cawing stopped; the millipede ran his track, leaving the widow hungry.
It was now time, nothing can stop the train’s course now. The bright stop was in sight and now it was time to feast. The millipede enjoyed his meal slowly while the crickets came back to sing their ballads. The vegetarian monster loved his snack until greater dread then birds came; it was the footsteps of a human being, not just any human being, but the arthropod-hating child of the resident family. The millipede put down his snack and started up again as fast as he could. Any of the termite passengers who would help themselves to any sawdust had to get on now and hold on, as any bump at the rate the creature was going could wipe the passengers off.
The boy wandered around while the train docks in its old location, back to where the crickets chirp the loudest, only now interrupted by the movement of the child scaring away the crows. The beast was satiated with his prize, and he curled up, letting the night run.


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