Ambush

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The indignation; Throwing up their hands like mad Italian chefs Watching someone murder their recipe. “But you didn't warn us!”   Surprise! Testing the waters, probing for weakness, “It’s not fair.” “C...

The indignation;

Throwing up their hands like mad Italian chefs

Watching someone murder their recipe.

“But you didn't warn us!”

 

Surprise!

Testing the waters, probing for weakness,

“It’s not fair.”

“Can't we do something else?”

“Pleeease.”


No.

 

Questions fired, aimed to confuse;
mortar shells, coming in from all sides.

"What does this mean?"
"How long do we have?"

"What does that mean?"

"Pen or pencil?"

 

Focus.

 

I begin to pace,
Up and down like a jailer;
Except we’re all in the same cell.
Watching them all,

Looking for an escape route.

Huffing, puffing and finally acceptance,

 

Silence.

 

Then they start.

Reading furiously, scrabbling around
As if digging a tunnel to the outside world.
Whispering words, rustling pages,

Pens clicking, a b or c?

One hour.

Tick tock.

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