“Hey. I know you’re in there. If you let me in now I won’t be mad...well not too mad.” The door rattles. “You hear me!” The door rattles even harder.
I hold on to the door trying to lend it any strength I possess in my adrenaline soaked arms.
Trigger warning! This short contains elements of domestic abuse and a murder.
The young man sat on a tree stump and ate a piece of barley bread. An older man sat next to him and nudged him before extending his hand. The young man tore a piece off of his bread and handed it to the older man.
Jonas sat with his back against a tree. His musket lay against his right thigh where he has dropped it. The wet would be doing a number on the barrel, but the Ston arrowhead in his shoulder kept him from caring.