jutuvestija
"Peppers," He looked at her with big, brown puppy dog eyes, a look he'd perfected since she came to work for him. unfortunately, it worked far more often than Virginia Potts liked to admit.
He bloomed out of the floor the way blood pools on the floor, his scarlet eyes bright.
We thought they were games. All the kids did. We lived here and played games. Pretended to shoot people from the sky. It wasn't until I grew and saw the world I'd helped create that it wasn't a game.
There was a smudge across the painting. A pissed off FBI agent stood in the brightly lit gallery, gazing at the giant painting hanging on the blank wall. It was a perfect copy, hanging in the original's place. Perfect, that is, except for the giant, multicolored smudge dragged across the canvas. Peter could almost hear Neil laughing.
The stalks swished against my fingers as I trailed them through the field. It was almost time to harvest. Too bad we wouldn't have time to bring in one of our biggest crops. I suppose it didn't matter at this point, what with the market destroyed, along with almost everything else. But here, in the endless sea of gold, it was hard to believe all the cities to the east and west were gone. Here, everything was normal. Here, under the white sun and still-blue sky, everything was safe.
The medal dangled from my neck, shining in the thousands of stage lights trained on the platform. The stadium echoed with the clapping and shouts of millions of attendees.
I never told my stories anymore. I left that to whoever was left after I was done. They are tales best told by others; they wouldn't be believed coming from me.
Well that's just swell. There was no way I was getting out of the snow that night. I'd neglected the chains and now I was stuck on the mountain. And I could hear the wolves. Just swell.
"You have a visitor."
My groggy mind struggled to comprehend this unlikely event through it's cocktail of painkillers. A visitor? Who? Who in the world?
"Speak!" I ordered.
He stood there with his mouth hanging open, his eyes wide as the moon overhead. Where was the rest of his unit? I feared the worst as I looked into his haunted eyes.
"All dead," he whispered. "Ambush. There were so many..."
They'd left no one alive to tell the tale besides this catatonic young man who couldn't be more than nineteen.
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