Kind of like a munitions dump--except for stories...
Tuesday, June 5, 2012
The Highwayman--a drabble
He was the illegitimate son of a defrocked minister who had once set the ladies’ hearts aflutter with his physical beauty and convincing talk of hellfire and damnation. Or so Trace had heard—he’d never had the pleasure of meeting that fine gentleman. He’d inherited his daddy’s looks, but not his calling. Now, as he fled the scene of his last, botched robbery, dragging his bullet-shattered leg behind him, Trace finally came within sight of his father’s abandoned church. Though only a husk of its former self, it seemed as good a place to make his last stand as any.