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Weekly Contest #242
Alex could barely stand the hot, rancid breath in his face, the absence of the rest of his senses heightening his perception. His legs and arms ached from being in the same standing, cramped position for hours. The pocketknife pressed against his leg from his pocket with extreme pressure. He hissed, to not be overheard by anyone except his intended target,"Carl! Move! Over!"He heard a scuffling next to him, the coffin creaking with shifting weight, then a sharp jab in the side of his ribs. "God damn!" he heaved under his breath."Sorry!" Carl...
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