The clocktower had stood right on the perimeter of the blast. Half the building had been vaporized, but the rest was still standing, decades later. The guts had long since been scavenged, and only part of the face remained, a line orfrust marking the hour of armageddon.
The site was abandoned. The open side made it easy to climb, but poor shelter. Still, it would do as a sniping position. The highwaymen were less than an hour behind. She put the glasses away and fished out her grapnel. If she wanted to keep living, she had work to do.
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Everyday DrabblesShort Story
A drabble is a very short story one hundred words long. No more, no less. They are designed for maximum impact in the least amount of space. For 2019, I'll be posting a drabble every day.