Captive

I began to shuffle my feet again the moment the wraps loosened around my ankles. If my trusty blade were on me, I’d cut through these moist yet stiffening powdery rags my captor had applied to my legs. It’s as if he wanted to mummify me. The man seemed a titch broken by hallucinations or manifestations he was experiencing. He appeared to shoulder the heavy burden of being righteous; I was one of the evil ones who had to stand and face the punishment I was due.

I was nearly free from my bondage. Thankfully all I heard was silence.

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