By J.H. Jones
Hidden in a dark corner of the abandoned building after his escape, he rested, setting down his heavy bag.
His conscience grated on him like tin foil between his teeth. He had invited the newcomers into town over the objections of his neighbors. Superstitions, he had scoffed. Truth be told, he had welcomed the newcomers’ gold, not them.
When he noticed their hungry looks and the drool snaking down their chins, it was too late.
But not too late for him. He reached for his sack of gold.
Out of the darkness a hand touched his.
“Thank you for your invitation.”
Great start to a longer story, but also stands on its ow. Kudos.
Thank you, Kevin! It sounded like you were intrigued…hmmm…I should get back to writing it!
Makes me want to read more!