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.

2 comments:

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

    chris

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