For Rome

And yet still we marched forward, never breaking stride. Like good Romans. There was no escaping it: I was about to find myself in mortal combat.

But I still had not made my decision. Do I fight back? Or do I allow the enemy to slide his steel through my skin, rupture my organs, spew my blood all over this fertile land, and send my last breath from my lungs?

They loosed their first volley of arrows from the tops of the walls, impregnating the air with that dreadful silence that blares between action and consequence. A sharp intake of breath and we raised our hefty shields. The arrows thudded down on the wood with malicious force.

It had begun, and, yet still, I had not made my decision.

 

End

 





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