The familiar urge overcame him again. He wondered where it had gone to for some months. Now it was back but stronger. It cursed through his blood stream, felt it’s pulse in his temples. Sweat trickled down his back.

He watched the man who hadn’t moved from his seat.

It was time.

He took a deep slow breath and stepped out from behind the pole.

This is a One Minute Fiction from Cyranny

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