The man was tied to the chair, his face and shirt bloody.
Harry tugged down the gag.
‘Are you okay?’
‘Do I look okay?’
‘What happened?’
‘What do you think happened? They tied me up and worked me over.’
‘But what’re you doing in my garage?’
‘How the fuck do I know? I didn’t pick the venue! Now, can you untie me before they return?’
‘They’re coming back?’
‘To finish what they started.’
There was a noise outside.
‘Quick. My hands.’
Harry started to tug up the gag.
‘Hey, what’re you …’
He slipped out the rear door and ran.
A drabble is a story of exactly 100 words.
1 comment:
Oh, that's a nasty twist there at the end, Rob! This one's nicely done, indeed.
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