Monday, December 10, 2012

100 Words a Day 122

The stench when he heaved the stone lid off the sarcophagus was horrific. After a few moments the strength of the odor diminished and Hector was able to approach the corpse. The body was heavily decayed. All that remained were bones and some flimsy strands of flesh. The armor encasing the body was corroded. It was black and pitted, the magnificent craftsmanship reduced to scrap metal. The sword however, remained, undamaged by time. Hector pulled it from the tattered remains of the skeleton’s grasp. The weak light of the torches reflected off the brilliant edge of the still sharp blade.

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