…and on the 8th day, micro fiction was published on some dude's blog.

Casualties Of War

Terrence sat there in a daze, staring at the smoldering pile of ash.

It had all happened so quickly. He had been walking down the street, minding his own business, when four people in ski masks jumped him from behind.

Two of them restrained him while the other two ripped off his toupee, flung it to the ground, gave it a few good stomps, and set it on fire.

The four of them took turns threatening him with further attacks if he contacted the authorities and/or bought a new hairpiece. And then, just as quickly as the attack began, the four dispersed and it was over.

And just like that, Terrence had become a casualty of The War On Rugs.

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