Friday Fictioneers 9-3-2021


The creek was wide and shallow, splatter-dappled with shade. Once Ringo found his way there, he knew his troubles were over. He splashed half-way across, listening to the distant bay of the hounds. Once he slipped their noses, he’d have no trouble slipping the law-enforcement on his trail. He started moving up the middle of the stream, careful not to disturb the larger rocks scattered along the bottom.

The crack was loud in his ears. Arms wide spread, he fell forward, baptized by blood and water.

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