the arrival

I was woken at six in the morning by the sound of boots on gravel. The heavy drone of an army, the group of men all in uniform to vent their anger against my father through the medium of gritty violence. I can imagine....

....swords clang against one another, men fall to the ground like flies as trained fighters whirl their weapons high above their heads. The door to my chamber crashes to the stoney floor and i turn from the window, gasping. A rough-faced man grabs me by the waist and pulls me into an embrace, his arms knocking the air out of me. Close up his rugged looks become chiselled and defined, i cannot resist myself and know i would do anything for him and....

of course nothing of the sort will happen to me. The door is still on its hinges and i am still staring at these strangers whom i feel will become so much more familiar to me as the days and nights draw into one.

The End

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