Bottled Up [Drabble]

He walked to the window, pushed open a chink in the blinds.

Nothing.

He took a swig from the bottle. The cheap gin should’ve burned on the way down, but he barely felt it.

His nerves were shot, and he was just waiting for the rest of him to catch up.

They were coming.

He fingered the safety on the pistol strapped to his hip. He kept it on him at all times.

He walked to the window.

Nothing.

Swig.

He paced across the room that was fast becoming a cell.

He walked to the window.

They were here.

Finally.

[100 words]

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