Sunday, 14 November 2010

“On the count of three,” Henri and India grasped their glasses, “One, two, THREE!”

On three, they slung the sweet brown liquid in their mouths, and as it went down, it left a slight burning sensation in their throats.
India tucked the bottle under her arm, picked up and ashtray with one hand, and her glass in another and walked back into the front room. She poured another two shots for Henri and herself.

A little snippet from my 9 page story (so far). Only posting a teeny paragraph because I'm a bastard.
No, I'm quite embarressed and this seemed the best bit.
It is by no means finished at all, but I felt the need to publish something from it, because it feels like I've been writing it for ages, and no one has read anything from it.


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