Saturday, July 13, 2013

100 Words a Day 320

The pounding had been going on for days.

There was plenty of food in the compound.

They had a well for water.

The things outside would beat themselves to mush before breaking the door down.

They had everything they could possibly need to survive.

Except a way to stay sane.

No one was sure which was worse, the boredom or the banging. They hadn’t thought to bring much to do, just an old pack of cards. Not having anything to do left them with plenty of time to listen to the growing number of zombies beating on the compound door.

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