Biscuit trap

A whip cracked the ceiling above but not hard enough to crack it. Bits of dirt loosened and fell into my eyes.

“MORE!” I screamed.

I started throwing tiny stones at the ceiling, like that would change anything.

I jump up and try to punch the ceiling. It is too high up.

Not that I can see anything, it is pitch black in here.

I danced and jumped up and down and hollered and yodelling hoping the ceiling would fall down. No such luck.

The sounds of a shovel pushing it’s way through loose soil.

It struck heavily like a spoon on the biscuit of the cheesecake.

I straightened my tie and gleamed in the dark.

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