Guide The Crack of Dawn

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The vagina of any woman you wake up to in the morning. An expression to describe when a woman's vagina is very close you your face when you wake up and it's the first thing you see. He's normally late for work cos his cock crows every morning at the crack of Dawn.

crack of dawn

It either means two things the first sight of day or dawn Or it could just means someone name dawn most likely a girl bends over. Milkshake Duck Being a Towel Above your raising Pank Rembrandt Read on. We must have to wake up before the crack of dawn in order to complete our journey at time. We are leaving this place at the crack of dawn tomorrow.

You should go to bed now - if you really wish to wake up at the crack of dawn. Wake up! Its crack of dawn.

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And get ready for school. Jenny is always up at the crack of dawn while Jack is a pure night owl. We were always up at the crack of dawn to catch more fishes. We will meet when it's crack of dawn. She got up at the crack of dawn the very next morning and started working on her project. Origin There is no definitive origin for this phrase. Idiom of the Day cave in cave in Meaning to fall for something, either literally or metaphorically to succumb to pressure to collapse admit defeat Example Sentences The building caved in by itself after The news did not bode well.

In the best-case scenario, it was just broken, in the worst, the Mujahideen had infiltrators in the base and were prepping for assault. The latter possibility seemed more likely, as the lights in the room suddenly went out as Sergei opened his mouth to ask for orders. Intruders in the base! Sergei rushed out the door, rifle in hand. The night refused to return to being uneventful, it seemed. It also seemed far more hostile than before, as he stalked the streets of the former village.

Urban Dictionary: The crack of dawn

The headquarters was right in the center of the base, and search teams were to begin sweeping radially outward from the center. Sergei was currently trying to find his group. Safety in numbers, after all. He rushed through the narrow alleys, paranoia creeping on him with every window and building he passed. A fighter could appear from anywhere within. Screaming had started as well. A rush of air in front of him. Sergei let loose a hail of bullets. To his surprise, he hit something.

A man in black clothing appearing out of thin air, knife falling out of his hand as he collapsed. The body hit the ground, leaking blood onto the Afghan soil. Suddenly, he halted. This was the place the first shots were fired.

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It was obvious from the bloodbath that had taken place. The ground was littered with corpses, bloody and torn.

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At least three people, judging by the assortment of parts littering the ground. Dimitri was there, eyes glassy as he laid against a wall. Strange burns covered his face, almost treelike. Sergei lifted his hand and shut the eyes of his friend. That was one favor, he figured. Something sharp, and unfamiliar. The greatest pain imaginable to him, increased hundredfold. It was over as soon as it began but he was collapsed on the ground as it was done.

A fuzzy figure stepped into his field of view, in the same black uniform as the man Sergei had killed. He was speaking into a radio, in English. Sergei struggled to his knees. Sergei obliged him of this lapse in judgement and proceeded to do just that.

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Releasing the cadaver, Sergei shook his head, trying to maintain his faculties. He was tired, his right arm barely worked, and he could hear more of his comrades being struck down by the intruding force. Sergei staggered towards the armory. The case was almost certainly the target of these forces, if their abilities and timing was any indication. Sergei needed a weapon he could wield with one hand. The pistol on the hip of the man he had just killed would have to do.

An American revolver, fully loaded. Sergei supposed his luck was turning around. Reloading a gun with one hand was not something he was willing to do under pressure. The streets were oddly peaceful now. Every so often he would see the body of a comrade, or one of the mysterious intruders. It may not have been as hopeless as it originally had seemed, but the streets were still empty of life, of those that could help or hinder him.

The haven from the Mujahideen had become a mausoleum. Sergei made his way down the narrow paths between houses, constantly on watch for anything that could indicate another invisible foe. The armory was a squat building that had originally been storage for grain, situated close nearby the headquarters. The thick walls made it ideal for holding the precious ammunition and weapons of the forces stationed at the base, as well as the case.

It also made it very dangerous to assault. Sergei crept up alongside a short wall, keeping his silhouette low. From the flashlights visible through the barred windows, at least 2 people were in the building. The question was answered as a large snap rang out from inside the armory, followed by screams.

Ozone filled the air again as the soldiers inside the building suffered the same fate as Dimitri. Sergei rushed towards the building, revolver in hand.

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He managed to land a couple hits, but this individual was tougher than his allies. The intruder approached, bleeding from wounds in his arms and legs. Electricity coursed across his fingertips, and he began to fade from view as whatever mechanism made the attackers invisible activated.