Droplets from the Inkwell

Twitter Scribbles: Friday, 1 February 2013

I sat on the edge of his bed and held his hand. We sat in silence, looking into each others eyes. He smiled wanly and I lowered my eyes.

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His guards escorted him across the courtyard to the blood stained wall. The firing squad congregated nearby, watching him approach his end.

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She crouched behind a bunker, holding her marker close to her chest. To her left, a teammate swore as two paintballs stained his shirt blue.

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I paddled my canoe, slowly drawing closer to the shallows of the lake. I slipped out of the vessel, the water cold on my calves.

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The bagpipe troop marched along the parade route, their kilts fluttering a bit in the breeze. The crowed listened to their tune in silence.

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He crept toward the house, keeping to the shadows where possible. He studied the dark building, seeking any sign of life. All was quiet.

JarredH

Give me pen and paper and I shall create entire worlds and fill them with adventures.