The moon was shining fiercely, more intense than any full moon he could ever recall. It was almost blindingly bright. Of course, he had never taken in the moon from his back, lying on the ground in a pool of his own blood.
“At least I can still see it there,” he thought, breathing heavily. “That means that I’m still alive.” But the swirl of the night’s events was overtaking his mind like an out of control carousel. The party, the jokes… who was insulted? Who started screaming accusations? “Why did I run?” he muttered. Nothing made sense.
He needed to be clear, clearer than he had ever been in his entire life… the life that now hung in the balance.
Magdis: You have the next three paragraphs. Continue the story, post it in entirety on your blog and put the link on the Facebook page of The Writ.
Then choose who goes next: