Three square meals a day, lowered into the pit, the pots checked for tampering afterwards. Even the flimsiest of handles could be fashioned into a shiv.
Despite hellish conditions, with no light or fellowship, the pots always returned empty, and the will to survive and hate endured.
Written for: Twittering Tales
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Hmmm, not your usual?
That’s a bit sad, and frightening. Some people just dig deeper and deeper into their trenches when hate is their master.
excellent!
Excellent 💜 hate and vengeance are very strong motives to survive.💜💜
Reminiscent of the chuckwagon.