joeislove's 100-word story for August 26, 2025

joeislove wrote the following micro-story on Hectalex on August 26, 2025. Each story on Hectalex is inspired by a daily visual prompt and must be exactly 100 words.

It was one of those dreary days where the overcast comes down to the ground. Everything muffled, and not a bird all day. I dropped the magazine, checked the rounds for the twentieth time, slapped it back into place. A nervous habit, a bad one. Sandra used to give me shit about it. "One of these days you're gonna need every round, and your mag will be in your hands, not in the rifle." Shaking her head. Didn't matter anyway the day they got her. I put thirty rounds into that thing and it still dragged her into the fog.

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