Thursday, 9 December 2010

It's Sixty-Word Thursday


 Waiting
Firebombs and bullets. Friends, ripped apart. Terry, Chalky, Billy Henderson. All I have left are their laughing, smiling faces. That day we joined up. So proud, we were, to be fighting, for King and Country.

So very proud.

And now here I sit, alone. A fucking lifetime away. A cheap hotel room in Manchester. Soaked in my own blood.

Waiting.

2 comments:

  1. Sounds like a pretty good Friday night to me. Not bad for ten periods and seven commas. Tasty, mate, very tasty.

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  2. Another cracking shorty short, Ian.

    ReplyDelete