Flash Fiction: Night of the Long Knives

The air reeks of incompetence. Lies are told. Truths are revealed. Battle lines are drawn. Knives are drawn and blood is spilled. Do I sit back and watch or join the fray? As I weigh my options, a hand clamps over my mouth and nose. Something sharp slides between my ribs, a painful reminder that no one is safe when the the sun sets and long knives come out.

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Filed under Fiction, Flash Fiction

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