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Flash Fiction Friday: There is No Exit

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This week's flash fiction challenge from Chuck Wendig was simply to write a story that used the phrase "there is no exit." No Exit? “I hate going down there,” Evan whispered as he and Owen entered the elevator cage and began the drop into the mine. Owen jabbed his friend with an elbow before crossing himself. For good measure, he spat over his left shoulder, making sure he wouldn’t hit any of the other miners. It might be worse luck to spit on one of the older men than to speak of the fear they all felt underground. Anyway, this mine wasn’t so bad. There was a mine over on the other side of the mountains, that went more than twice as deep. They said you could hear the mountain creak at that depth, and it was hot down there, so that men worked stripped to the waist. At least here they got some fresh air, by way of a network of old shafts. For all that, Owen felt the familiar dread as the sun dropped away above and the lights on their helmets grew brighter in the darkness.