“We’ve surrounded him.”

The Worcestershire Military garbed in their green camo slowly stepped up to the front door o’ the log cabin,–such a mix o’ creamy yellow highlights & dim blue shadows in the mild sunlight–holding rifles up to their shades-covered faces.

They paused @ the door for a second before the lead kicked down the door. Then they all charged in & surrounded the man in the fine-pressed dark suit & tie, who stopped, dropped on his knees, & held his hands up without e’en being asked.

“Sir Esquire, you are under arrest for treason.”

Esquire looked up with dark eyes @ the golden bird he stupidly took with him–out o’ pure greed.



Cabin, John, Songbird.