Hands tied and pulled above me. My back freshly shredded from 100 lashes. Cicadas sang their summer song while blood seeped from my wounds. Fireflies burnished the fields where I would never toil again. Soaked in blood, sweat and piss, I quietly prayed for the peace of impending death.
From the Big House, my Master finally came. His sharp knife slid across my jugular and it was done. I slipped into darkness, taking with me the name my mother gave me. His task complete, Master strolled back to his porch. By gaslight he poured his whiskey, and enjoyed a hand-rolled smoke.
Thank you Lance Burson for hosting the 100 word song prompt. You rock my friend! You really, really, really do. I’m honored you asked me to contribute the song for this week.
People, go read his work. He’s fabulous!!!