Flash Fiction

I was awoken with dawn and arguing ravens. Along with the argumentative racket weak sunshine broke the window battening’s. Somewhere there was the sound of a door closing and footsteps in the long passage. The door to the cell creaked open to reveal a monk in rough dark garb, who beckoned to me.

I had spent time counting the seconds until the new dawn. It was here now. The monk tossed me a loaded carbine. After checking his own weapon, he raised his arm in the universal symbol of resistance.

He knew today we would die.