Thursday, 26 June 2014
The Final Breath
As I stare at the shut windows and locked doors I hold my breath pleading to be let outside, free. I shouldn't be here I thought I should be with my other friends on the Sahara desert playing in the sand and splashing water. I glanced outside, the gentle breeze swiftly ruffled the leaves and swept the grass. I heard a knock on the door, peered back then hooted mournfully. My new master walked through the broken down door then carefully stared into my sad brown eyes. He softly and swiftly manoeuvred me out the door like I wasn't as heavy as I actually was. It felt good to be back in fresh air. But as I quickly turned around the dreaded gun that had killed nearly all of my kind shot into my leathery flesh.