Chapter One
The two eyed one another, warily, like tigers before a fight.
Silence hung heavily all around them, disturbed only by a faint
metallic clink. The hushed ambiance bristled with bloodthirsty
anticipation, prickling like sweat on a muggy day.
There was no movement except for the flags, dazzling in scarlet,
black, and gold. They whipped languidly against their posts.
The first sound came like trumpets, shrill and clear, as sharply
authoritative as barked parade ground orders. The two stirred,
getting positioned, oriented, lining up like sharpshooters on a
target.
The quiet that followed was like a great blanket of snow, then
the trumpet notes slashed out again but sounding different this
time. The two erupted into motion.
Slowly at first, then gaining momentum, they ... read full excerpt from Eat, Drink, and Be Buried ebook
