The Smuggler
The wall was high, topped with barbed wire.
He’d never be able to scale it. His only chance was to slip past the guard.
He waited until darkness fell, then waited some more.
Cold sweat made his dark clothing stick to him. His stomach roiled with nerves.
If he were caught, the penalty would be death. No leniency when it came to drugs.
A dim light glowed in the guard’s booth. He’d have to chance it.
Bent low, he crept past, keeping to the grass at the edge of the road.
Safe, he and his precious cargo.
Delicious, expensive coffee.