high velocity

He thought he’d heard a rifle shot, the sound swelling outward after ignition.

Bed paralysis,

Blanket pulled up-and-under a diminutive chin, he expected the bullet to show.

If the aim be true, a puncture in the paintwork and plaster would surely result.

A modest-sized dust storm form,

All in slow-motion.

But no.

The follow-up sounds suggested the closing of an up-and-over garage door.

Heard conversations of neighbours in the vicinity confirmed the fact.

Nothing more laid in store.

 

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