NUDD NETTLE
December 30, 2018
Nudd Nettle glanced to his left. He wished to ascertain if the fellow over there was armed. A glint off a rifle barrel told him all he needed to know. A spinning leap and dive brought Nudd Nettle’s jaw crashing against a good sized rock. Rendered unconscious, Nudd sprawled at the path’s edge. One of his boots quivered. A trickle of blood lazed from his chin. The armed fellow wandered over and stole Nudd’s beaded vest.
The sun set. The moon rose. Nudd Nettle stirred. He sat up. Alone in the night, he momentarily mourned the loss of his beaded vest. The he got up and went home.
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