It’s the weight, heavy and constant, which tightens my determination.
Gunfire rattles across the barbed wire and I run, my legs aching and my shoulders on fire. Nerves tingle as the metal within my grip bites into my fingers welding the weapon to my hands. Cold sweat forms, dripping from my brow, and I shift my hefty backpack, but the weight sits firm.
Guilt and desire battle in equal measure and my heart resounds and ricochets like a cannon locked within my ribcage, as I lift my gun…and kill.
This week’s prompt over at Lillie McFerrin’s Five Sentence Fiction is conflict…go and read the other tales!