Rolled

The barrel began to move and, just in time, I used my elbows and knees to brace my body against the inner curve of the wood, somehow managing to find gaps amongst the murderous spikes. The barrel began to spin faster and faster, the force pressing me harder against the points. There was a jolt, and I was almost shaken onto the barbs. Then I slowed and finally came to a halt. I didn’t move until the lid was forced off, filling the inside of the barrel with light.

B7 C7