This week’s photo: © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields
And now my 100 word story:
Waking up I see the ornate ceiling and wonder where I am. My head hurts. Why am I laying here? I don’t try to get up, it’s all I can do to open my eyes. There seems to be a lot of noise and it’s getting louder. Someone shines a light in my eyes. I am being pushed and prodded.
I hear 1-2-3 and I am lifted only to be put down again. It’s softer than the floor. What the hell happened? And then I remember the gun. I remember the flash.
The son-of-a-bitch shot me.