Some Random Writing

I write a bit, but not nearly as much as my friends, and not nearly as much as I'd like to. I was bored the other day so I just wrote this randomly. It has no context, nor a plot.

Silhouetted by the sun's ascent, Darwin ducked under a pipe, and scrambling forwards, got back up to his feet. He continued running, making large, light strides. He glanced behind him briefly and swore audibly as he ran. The men pursuing him were still doing so- they had not been outrun, not yet anyway.
Darwin ducked left into a small alleyway between two tower blocks. A rusty and aged exterior stairwell snaked up the side of one of the towers. Darwin began to run up them, one flight at a time. Looking down at his feet as he clambered the shaky metallic staircase, He saw his pursuers following. They weren't fooled by his 'disappearing' act. It was such a movie cliche, but sometimes it worked. With a grunt Darwin hauled himself up the final flight of stairs, onto the roof of the tower block.
'Fuck.' He cursed.
He looked around for a few seconds, taking in the surroundings... there was a shorter building to his left, but it was a fifteen, maybe twenty foot drop, he wouldn't make that. In front of him lay a large park- not even a possibility. To his right there was another tower block, but that lay across the road, it was a good 10 meters, and even Darwin couldn't jump that far. He looked behind him the way he came. Across on the other side of the alleyway was the second tower block. Darwin knew this area- on the other side of that tower block were a string of old flats from the 1970's, all the same height, and a good escape route. The skyscraper was large and glassy and modern. Each of its four sides were made of thick mirrored glass, so that it reflected the surroundings around it. It also reflected the sky, and on this dawn that left it with a huge white and yellow spot on the side facing Darwin. From this reflection he knew the sun had come over the horizon just enough cast its light on the skyscraper roof.
He took his pistol out of the inner pocket of his coat, and clicked the safety off. Darwin had never used a gun before, not for real. He had never needed to, he always outran whoever was chasing him. But not this time. He aimed at the skyscraper that lay before him, at the window opposite him, where the the reflection of the sun silhouetted his own. Darwin pulled the trigger, and the recoil jarred him a little, but his aim was good. He clicked the safety off and put the gun away before glancing at the window. A jarred, jagged spiderweb of cracks split the window, culminating in a small bullet hole. Where the cracks ended, the window pane began.
Darwin looked down briefly at his shadow, which lay tall in front of him. No. Ahead of him. Darwin took a deep breath and ran, just as his pursuers, guns bared like metallic teeth, came to the top of the stairs. Darwin ran, and crouched a little as he came to the edge of the roof, before springing his legs up and bringing himself into the air.
His pursuers fired their guns, and gunshots shredded the relative calm of the morning. A cacophony of metallic bangs that jarred and rolled into one another, so that they were in fact indistinguishable to each other, and were simply part of a group. Bullets flew everywhere in Darwin's direction, splaying into the pristine glass panels of the skyscraper, creating unnatural spidering cracks just as Darwin had done seconds before. Darwin flew into his target, and the cracked panel gave way completely and smashed, raining down glass upon the still mobile Darwin.
Darwin landed into a roll and came up to his feet with only a slight stumble. None of the bullets had hit him. He was in a hallway. He continued to run, until he came to an staircase at the end of the hall. He ran a flight, then another, and then he was at the right level. He came to the window facing westwards, away from where he had come, and opened it. It was a large window and gave Darwin little trouble as he climbed out onto the ledge. The opposite block of flats lay about four metres below hima and around five in front of him. Darwin leapt, flew through the air, and landed into a shoulder roll. The landing swift and without problems. He followed the roll through until he was back on his feet, and carried his momentum onwards as he ran across the rooftop. The city lay sprawled before him. It was his playground, full of danger, but beautiful. It was alive, this city. It had a heart, it had a soul. It was a home. Of sorts.