The Sunday Whirl: Wordle 464

The drumming

By the glow of the fire, we could hear the thrumming of the distant drums like waves on the ocean, except coming to our ears. We didn’t mean to stop here; it was because we spent so much time repairing the chimney.  

Suddenly there was a sound of chains rattling, dinning the peacefulness of the drums. The short stint of simple drumbeats was washed out by a score of rattles and clanks from the cells below the town. These cells were like stains upon the finest clothes, never fully disappearing.  

Was this all a dream? Was I even awake? I could smell the burnt wood in the fire.  

©2020 CBialczak Fiction

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