One Picture, One Story
The distance to the schoolhouse seemed quite a bit further than my initial estimate. Damn burrs! I exclaimed as I felt the little burrs sticking to my clothes. They are always a pain in the ass to pick off, especially from wool socks. I picked a few off, but gave up quickly as I surveyed the path ahead of me. The sun was rising and it’s golden rays illuminated the small field filled with the bloody things. I made my way slowly through them and up to the steps of my destination. By now the light was no longer visible from inside, but the figure could still be seen, slumped by a table as if caught in some important work. I was exhausted from my eventful night so I sat on the bottom step and halfheartedly picked at the burrs caught in my socks.
I must have dozed off because when I opened my eyes the sun was high above and a quick check in the window showed no one at the table any longer. I relaxed a little and slowly rose to my feet. I gazed at my reflection and examined the cut across my cheek from the little scuffle with a car. As I took note of my injuries I noticed a small cat sprawled on the hardwood and a briefcase placed carefully next to a small table. I assumed that whatever was so important to the occupant was in that case. My curiosity overcame the pain my body was in. I tried the knob and the door slowly creaked open. I stood silently for some time carefully listening for any signs of life. I moved through the doorway and immediately fell to the floor as the cat ran between feet. Damn cat! As I looked up to find what floored me, I found myself face to face with the barrel of a gun.