Ambush.
By Andrew Hide
We lie here, waiting expectantly with quiet hearts of fear, five hundred romans march this way, their footsteps we can hear. The dales are covered with mist, covering all with silvery dew, though I feel this could be my last day, the world feel fresh and new. Now they are approaching, but something isn't right, the're in a battle formation, the're ready for the fight. Our secrets out, our trap exposed, out-numbered at forty to one, do we stand and die as heros, or to the hills should run? Written April 13th, 2002 © on Apr 13 2002 12:42 PM PST, Andrew Hide 0 • 10
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"We lie here, waiting expectantly..."