Henry’s morning

image

 

Photo Copyright: Marie Gail Stratford

Henry awoke on a cold surface, his wrists and ankles bound.

Through the gag he screamed, “Help,” but only a muffled sound escaped!

Where am I? I remember bringing Hope’s things to charity. Drove home, and something pinched my back.

He struggled to sit up. A thud filled the air, as his head smacked into a hard object.

He writhed; the effort caused the blindfold to slip. A bright light permeated the space. Oh my god, I’m in a box. Take a deep breath. If they wanted me dead, they would have killed me. In the distance a door creaked.

Advertisements

18 thoughts on “Henry’s morning

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s