Ragtag Daily Prompt: Grunge

Crawling on his belly, GarGar could feel the wind of the musket balls as they whizzed overhead. He knew he had to keep moving, despite the pain in his right leg. The canon ball that had fallen near him had knocked both him and his horse off their feet. Oddly, the world grew silent as he sailed through the air- now more shouting, no more screams, no more reports from the guns, big and small.

He rolled onto his back in order to catch his breath. Looking at his uniform, he was displeased by the grunge it had collected from all the smoke and dirt. I’d never pass inspection looking like this, he thought. He somehow managed to pull his sword from its scabbard and waved it in the air in the hope it would catch the attention of one of his officers. When they see it, surely someone will rescue me!

Published by Russell Smith

I was born at the American Hospital in Neuilly-sur-Seine, France. I find inspiration in the lives of so many people from Joan of Arc to Oscar Wilde. While my primary avocation is photography, I also enjoy philosophy, theology and most of all, history. My beloved wife, Robin Anne Smith, who passed away in 2013 is an inspiration to me. My beloved partner, Dana is also a great support and inspiration to me. I'd be remiss if I did not mention my cats: Maxwell, Nigel, Pirouette and GarGar.

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