Rough Draft: I Once Saw a Man Who Had Had Enough

I once saw a man who had had enough.

It was the eighth day, a week and a day . . .

We could see them the whole time, hear them, their groaning. About fifty, and we were holed up in a little thing like a shed. The dumb things just kept pounding and pounding against the walls, day and night, pounding our little box like a drum. We had lost our guns, stolen. I settled that debt latter.