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 Half-drabbles based on lines from a single poem...


                                  an-angel-walks-beside-me-sandra-stimac


Prompted by: I could die—to know ~Emily Dickinson

Morning's bold face—stares in the window—

Illya woke with a start, as he looked out the window of the small cabin he’d take refuge in from the storm; he swore he saw a face looking in.

He painfully rose, pulling his weapon as the door creaked open  A black-cloaked figure appeared.

Was it Death?



Possibly, this moment—

Illya collapsed, passing out. When he awoke his wounds were bandaged.

“About time you woke up.” Napoleon smiled.

“So it was you who tended to me.”

“No, just got here...homed in on your signal.”

“If Death did not call on me, who did?”

“Maybe an Angel of mercy, tovarisch?”

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Section VII Propaganda and Public Relations

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