Shimbo
It's abundantly clear that you are not the man I thought you were.
No.
So who the hell are you, really?
I can't tell you that.
You are going to have to.
I love you.
No... no, I don't think you do.
Left behind by the race, the short, wheezing boys pulled to a halt looking around themselves, red-faced.
"Quick," one panted. "There's no teachers looking. Let's duck into the bushes and have a quick cigarette. We can catch them on the way back."
She clasped her hands together and prayed, "Dear gods of my mother and ancestors deliver this man to me."
Behind her, the crowd swayed, baying for blood.
The distress beacon blinked, forlorn, unnoticed. A hundred meters away were bloodstains. The trail in the mud suggested something had been dragged to the river. A deflated life-preserver was hung from a thorn bush as if its owner had just gone swimming. The surface of the water was undisturbed.
'Let's get out of here,' said Buran.
Something moved in the rocks to one side, shadows uncoiling.
'It's too late for that,' I said, flicking my rifle's safety-catch off.
Sons and daughters of Earth, today we fight for our children, our future and for freedom.
Sundried tomatoes: mangled strips of blood red flesh, texture like leather, oozing oil.
"Yeah, like that was worthwhile," she said, looking down at the notepaper I had spent all day writing her a poem on. "Don't you have anything better to do?"
We had been fasting for fifteen days when the angels came. Armando said they were here to guide us. But they didn't seem like angels to me, they seemed like devils. And I wasn't sure where they were leading us, but it didn't look anything like heaven.
The clamp slowed the bleeding, but it was already too late. She looked up at me, already deep in blood-loss shock and her tears streaked the camouflage on her face. 'Don't forget me.' She said.
I am a wealthy and successful man, and you are what? A thief? A common criminal?
You stand in front of me, unconcerned by the bat I am threatening you with.
I have every right to kill you. What makes you think you can just come in here and take things that I worked for, Things that I spent years struggling with my competitors for. Things that celebrate my triumph and the fact that I am a winner?
You don't answer.
We struggle. Despite my armament you beat me. It seems easy for you. You don't even seem to be trying.
"What do you want?" I ask, from the floor looking up at you.
You don't answer.
"Just take whatever things you want and get out. The police will be on their way."
"I'm not here for your things," you say. "I'm here for you."
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