Hanney tried to roll-over, but his shoulder clunked into something solid after a couple of inches.
‘What the …’
His head thumped off of rough wood.
‘Fuck!’
He tried to move a hand to the pain, but couldn’t shift it from his hip over his belly.
Hanney opened his eyes. It was still pitch black.
‘What the …’
Panic blossomed in his chest and he thrashed about in the coffin.
‘Hey! Let me out! Pete? This isn’t funny.’
Hanney kicked the lid a few times, the board barely rising, then it collapsed, soil seeping over his legs.
‘Pete? Oh, god.’
A drabble is a story of exactly 100 words.
1 comment:
Oh, this is great, Rob! I can feel the panic just reading it. Now I want to know what he's doing in that coffin and why Pete left him there.
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