Supplies are dwindling, as is morale and hope. The little one has figured out how to sharpen his toy light saber, and the wound he inflicted when he tried to hamstring me is festering. Girlie Bear has taken to wearing a black beret and making polemical speeches about the proletariat. Irish Woman will be home soon, and I hope she comes with reinforcements.
They have taken the bridge and the second hall. I have barred the gates
but cannot hold them for long. The ground shakes, drums... drums in the
deep. I cannot get out. A shadow lurks in the dark. I can not get
out... they are coming.
3 comments:
Cowboy up! They have numbers, but you have size and guile. And if you must fall, fall knowing you did all you could. Future generations will hold you up as an example. Of something.
That was the best laugh I've had all week - thanks!
Glad you survived the adventure.
Love the LOTR reference, entirely appropriate.
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