Basil Carter and the world behind the glass

The Silent Village.

It was all quiet in the Carter's house hold yet that was what it was always like. The small cottage was like a peaceful painting with the scenery around it. But no one could be found.
Down the winding wavy path a huge oak tree could be found. The path coiled like a snake and the tree stood like its predator. Grandly towering above all around it. The jewel of the village.

A boy was at the base of the tree. Flicking the pages of his book. That was one of the only sounds to be heard. Similar to whether one coughs or sneezes in a library.

He had forest green eyes which grew more understanding as he read each word. His glasses were on the edge of his nose. He was leaning closely to the pages. Inquesitive at what was happening in his book. His hair hid his face. He sat still and silent at the bottom of the oak. Yet this was the norm for him.

When Basil was very young he had lived with his mother and father yet they had disappeared. He had lived with his godfather Rupert from then on. He was an inventor and probably where Basil got his intelligence from. With large goggles and a spruce brown coat. They had gotten along like peas in a pod. Yet he had gone missing too.

Basil was left to his own devices. As his father had always said 'your big enough and ugly enough to take care of yourself. ' So he did.

He wondered to this day where they had gone. But that was a mystery to be found another day. He had a feeling he would find them but when was the question.