Remember: try to add tension to this snip. Make it more intriguing! And don't look at other people's changes until you make yours!
Alec was startled to hear sounds at his door. The execution was not supposed to take place until the morning. It had been but an hour since the lass—his wife!—had left him.
Have at it!
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The clank of iron chains outside the cell door sent a shiver down Alec’s back. God’s teeth, the execution was not supposed to be until morning. That’s hours away still, he assured himself. Hours. The lass had barely left an hour hence. His wife he corrected, had left him but an hour past; they had not said their farewells so there must still be time yet.
There was a scratch at the door, the rustle of whispers. God, it could not be time yet. It was but an hour since Anna—his wife!—had left, promising to be there in the morning when they came for him. Not yet. He still had four hours of life.
The metalic jingle of keys working a lock startled Alec. The execution was hours away, what torment faced him now? It would be a welcomed salve from the parting words of the lass—his wife.
[Ooo! Cool! An execution mid-honeymoon. Great contrast.]
Alec was startled to hear sounds at his door. The execution was not supposed to take place until the morning. [Startled? How? I need a visual clue, a stronger verb, more action. Fell out of his chair? Dropped the blade he was shaving with? What sound is he hearing? Voices? Horses? Is he a man who would startle easily, or take a disruption in stride? Hmmm.]
The sound of voices outside the door gave Alec a start, and he dropped his mug of ale, spilling it down his only change of clothes. He jumped out of the chair, ready for a fight. The execution was to take place in the morning, not now. It had been but an hour since the lass--his wife!--had left him. He wasn't ready.
It had been but an hour since the lass—his wife!—had left him. He smiled in satisfaction at the memory of their time together and the clever plan they'd hatched. He stretched as he rose from the cot, eager to prepare for his role. But then deep voices, heavy footfalls and the clank of his jailer's keys outside his door chilled him and wiped the smile away. His heart began to pound. The execution was not supposed to take place until the morning.
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