We were sat in a circle of seven.
Girl, boy, girl, boy, girl, boy, girl.
The King approached the centre of the circle in an intimidating demeanour. He pulled out a scroll and softly started to read. He promised bigger schools with a wider range of books. He promised human equality and a higher standard of living. Sounds of gunshots going off drowned the King’s last promise. The King hit the ground with a fall a so gallant, we remained transfixed. His strength faltered as he let out a feeble cough. His promises seeped out of his body, red and sticky.
We smiled in unison, having realised we had shot the King four times each.