Lonely Night by frogbook Hundred writing prompt entry |
One rivulet of sweat trickled into his eye. The back of his shirt was damp with sweat...or was it blood? Running through the alleys, he listened for the barking. Finally, silence; he stopped. He then felt the pain of the multiple wounds. Gritting his teeth, he attempted to sit. He knew he shouldn't have gambled the money, let alone borrowed it from a mobster like Dom. He thought of his wife and kids; tears joined the sweat on his face.
A low growl, others joining in; there were five more dogs, but it might as well have been a hundred.
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