Monday, November 18, 2013

100 Words a Day 459

The intruders tromped down the tunnel, their heavy footfalls echoing through the underground. She watched them track their surface world dirt across the floor of the sacred catacombs, leaving a trail of blasphemous filth in their wake. The light of their torch made her squint in her hiding place.

Anger boiled in her as she watched the thieves approach the altar, their greed evident even in the way they walked. Thoroughly distracted, their covetous fingers caressing the sacred gemstones, they were oblivious as she crept closer, flitting from shadow to shadow as a dark smudge in the flickering torch light.

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