My Friday Fictioneers entry for this week.
I learned something new for this week’s story: the little shed-like structure on the roof of a building, giving access from the stairwell to the roof, is known as a bulkhead.
I’ve continued again from where last week’s story left off:
The Tables Turn
I’ll have to handle this myself thought Mark. The police thought he was crazy, covered in mud, babbling about someone trying to kill him.
He spotted a disheveled apartment building, front door propped open. He ran in, up the stairs, onto the roof. A pile of debris gave him access to the bulkhead roof. He crouched there, waiting.
His assailant crept onto the roof, gun drawn, quietly closing the door without latching it.
Mark leaped off, onto his back, knocking him down and landing atop him. After applying a choke-hold, Mark demanded “Who are you? Why are you after me?”
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You can see all of this week’s entries here: