Sink: Old Man's Tale

by Perrin Briar

flame in his hand. He would be easy to see. And though he loathed to lose the light, he needed to even the odds. He peered at the lines on his palm, memorizing which direction he needed to go. But his sweat had smudged the ink, making the map all but illegible. He tossed the torch aside and stamped on it with his worn shoes. The tunnel was thrown

Nice one

whispering grew louder, now all around him. Then a whistling sound, followed by a clack! Something skimmed off the ground at his feet. He felt the air disturbance as the object flew past his ankle. The man’s eyes widened and he turned to look back at the darkness. A mistake. He shouldn’t stay still. Clack!

i love this part h

Pearson waved his arm at the empty space of the Outback around them. “This will all be prime development land,” he said. “Over one hundred acres. Worth millions once it’s developed. Breathe it in, lads. Breathe it in. Can you smell it?” “Yeah,” Graham

Jeremiah peered through the peephole now, watching as the fat twit preened what little hair he had on his head. Jeremiah reached for his gun, and then hesitated. The last thing he needed was for them, or, more importantly, the courts, to think he was a raving gun-wielding lunatic whenever someone came to the door. He’d had a bad experience of that with the Bible bashers. But at least everyone secretly knew the Bible bashers had

here to make sure you got our notifications about the opportunity to develop your property,” Fatty said. Jeremiah didn’t let him get any further. He unleashed a tirade on the hapless fools, opening the floodgates, letting rip and shouting at them as loud as his old voice would allow. He wasn’t even sure what he was saying, except that he made sure to slip plenty of offensive words in there.