The Master's Child
And now it's easier, the key sliding easily, closer, ever closer, until I have it, there at my feet.
Quivering and shaking, running on an adrenaline high, I release my death-grip on the side. Stooping to retrieve my prize, reaching down, I raise my chin against the stinking wash over my mouth. The key's slippery in my fingers, sliding through the slime, trying to escape my hold.
I bend a little further, and as my hand fastens around the Holy Grail, my feet slide from under me and I go down.
My fall is speedy and inexorable. Scrabbling madly at the side with one hand, the other firmly gripped around the key, I can't stop myself. I have barely time to clamp my mouth closed as I go under.
Bab Populer