AnElephantCant control himself here
He must have the courage of his conviction
Hopefully last week he learned
So he has returned
For another try at Alastair’s Photo Fiction
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The rebel troops creep forward, keeping low behind the mounds of dry twigs and bracken.
Their leader, self-styled Colonel Jack Stone, is out in front as always, directing his men with concise hand signals.
They are a small band, but utterly without fear.
They are brave to the point of recklessness.
He breathes in their loyalty.
He knows every one of them by name, knows their backgrounds, knows their families.
He can depend on them, they will follow wherever he leads.
His eyes are on the open door.
That worries him.
Is it a trap?
The consequences of failure are too great to contemplate.
He has no choice.
He must go in, and go in first.
Knees bent, he moves swiftly to the wall, pressing his back hard against it.
There is no sound, no movement from within.
He gestures to Theo, his trusted lieutenant, to take the other side of the door.
The others are close behind.
He steps inside, sweeping the scene with his laser.
Then a face appears from behind the bales.
‘Mum!’ he gasps.
Friends and family appear from all sides.
‘Surprise! Happy Birthday, Jack!’
When you are seven years old, every day is an adventure.