I was hauled to my feet, dragged across the field, and flung to the dirt.
I quivered in terror.
Two men approached me, placing my feet inside a bucket.
“That money you stole was ours. Now you’ve a lesson to learn!”
They approached with another bucket. I screamed in fear when I saw the wet concrete, which they packed around my feet.
I was going to die and why? For some money.
I begged for forgiveness. I pleaded. They laughed. I was doomed!
Suddenly, a man pulled my feet from the partially set concrete and asked, “Was the lesson effective?”
I was challenged by Jessica's Quill (Medium Writer) to write a drabble of the word 'effective'.
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Originally published on Medium
About the Creator
Colleen Millsteed
My first love is poetry — it’s like a desperate need to write, to free up space in my mind, to escape the constant noise in my head. Most of the time the poems write themselves — I’m just the conduit holding the metaphorical pen.
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Llion the Brave Version 2
Her screams diminished as Llion was dragged away from the cell. The stench in the corridor was less but there was still damp, decay, defecation, death. His feet dragged, like a raggedy puppet, the guard either side of him holding him fast. He could feel their individual fingers digging into his scant flesh, leaving their impression on his bones.
By Rachel Deeming2 days ago in Fiction
Comments (3)
I certainly hope so. It would be for me.
Oh my. Yup. I certainly would learn. Well done, my friend.
But did they actually steal their money? Loved your drabble!