Saturday, 19 May 2007

My Army

 The Red Indians crouched in the shadowy canyon, tomahawks at the ready. A vulture circled overhead.
The sound of hooves. A pale-skin on horseback.
“Damn,” cursed an Indian.
“What?!” asked the other.
“Well, he’s got RinTinTin with him,” the first complained, “Screw it.”
And both went off to the pub.


  1. Love the fifty-word stories lisa! (but you know that already!) :)



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