A Game Of 777

So I got tagged in a game of 777 by the wonderful Teresa Edgerton, fantasy author supreme, out on Twitter. The idea is you pick seven lines from the seventh page of your current work in progress. Here goes:

Hargy wouldn’t pee himself. He wouldn’t let them see him piss himself. They walked past the last building at town’s edge, into the broken ground that lay before the big spikes. Hargy could see two of them just ahead; obelisks looming forty feet into the night sky, their blade-like silhouettes outlined by stars.

They stopped just before the spikes. Hargy’s bare feet stung.

 Uniform pulled out a gun.

I’m meant to tag others so, if you’re a writer with a blog, consider yourself tagged. Or not.

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