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Weekly Contest #169
Caught by Patricia Rose The organization had found me. Again. I remained flat against the old brick wall, motionless in the darkness, breathing as softly as death while my pulse throbbed in my ears. I could see his shadow from the corner of my eye, the curved knife he held so casually, his posture the epitome of nonchalance. I waited for him to lunge, to move in any way at all that would release me from my paralysis, shock my body into breaking free and get me running. After all, I had sworn to myself only ten days ago that I would not go...
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