The tattooing of the drums seems so ominous, but predictable to her ears.
A foretelling of what is to come.
She closes her eyes, a single tear slipping down her dirt stained cheek as she's led by rough, burly looking men towards the town square.
A crowd has already started to gather, yelling and shouting curses and jeers.
But her eyes are focused on the high wooden platform piled high with dry kindle and wood. A stake sits in the exact center.
For me, she thinks, dread settling deep within her stomach.
She feels herself trembling, her body starting to shake. She feels herself start to stumble. One of the men escorting her catches her before she falls. Roughly pulling her up, he tightens his grip on her arm.
Her heart starts to beat faster and faster as she is led closer to her impending doom.
YOU ARE READING
Creative Writing Passages Part Two
PoetryThese are ideas and creative words and writing that are only starting to come out. I hope everyone enjoys it and has a comment or two to say.
