This Is MY Story
Opening the bag, there was an apple and bread.
So, now I have to choose my poison?
“It’s not poisoned, idiot. I need you alive,” he said, before throwing the apple core away. I think I heard that statement before. Anyway, I’m hungry. I just ate what he gave before we continued our journey.
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We traveled at a smooth pace with only the horse’s hooves the sound we can hear. Neither one of us initiated a conversation. What are we going to talk about, anyway? I’m the victim here.
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