There was nothing quite so frustrating as getting halfway through digging in one’s own garden and finding that an intended grave was already claimed.
They held hands as they ran, hoping that one of the dismembered digits would unlock the fingerprint-locked doors.
Putting up all these “missing” posters really helped cover how fresh this portion of the wall was, and the glue would help cover the smell.
[…] One Sentence Stories (Part 3) – Sketched Text […]
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