I choke and cough on smoke and dust filled air. “What’s going on?” I croak as I pull myself out from under the door. There is no response except for the crack of gunfire echoing through the hall. I cough a little more before making my way to the door. I peek around the corner and see no one. The smell of gunpowder fills the hall and makes me sneeze. The guard who had been watching over me is on the ground, bleeding from numerous holes in his body and a large gash in his neck. I bend down to check, but he is quite dead.
- Irish Philosophy (comatosebunny.wordpress.com)
- Cranky Bits on the Tuesday before Thanksgiving (sporeflections.wordpress.com)