It's late and Dragos was tired.
All he could think of was his warm, soft bed.
Dragos crept right in and fell asleep.
After a couple of hours he suddenly woke.
Did he hear a noise downstairs?
Silently Dragos slipped out of bed and gun in hand stepped silently and slowly downstairs.
At the moment Dragos pushed the kitchen door open, glazed in moonlight he saw the parallel lines of a sawn-off shotgun.
And then only darkness.
In Memoriam: RIP: Dragos