Thursday, April 12, 2018
100 Words a Day 1171
Ibefa stumbled through the dark street. The many mugs of beer he’d consumed made it hard to find his way. He was squinting up at the dim buildings, trying to figure out where he was that he didn’t notice the three rough men emerging from the deep shadows. He found himself on the ground, the back of his head aching. At first he thought it was the next morning. Then he felt the plunge of the first knife. He managed one cry of pain before iron hands clamped over his mouth. A baker found Ibefa’s body early the next morning.