Tuesday, July 19, 2016

100 Words a Day 889


Shamus came to and found himself at the base of the tree. He squinted against the sunlight and tried to move his head away from the warm, bright beams. This small movement was enough to send the world spinning. He rolled over and began dry heaving. After several moments his stomach managed to throw something up. He slumped back down next to the bilious puddle of stomach fluids and bits of food. It was dark before he woke again, the incessant sunlight replaced by intermittent flashes of lighting from black clouds. It was the cold rain that woke him though.

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