pratermax
The small brown radio was the last memory Horace held. The radio was battered and beaten, yet it held the infinite beauties of a lifetime. He fiddled with the dial and pushed the buttons, soaking in the last few minutes he had.
Billy had absolutely no idea where to sit at lunch on Friday. "I obviously cant sit with the dumb jocks, I'm too smart for them. But I'm not smart enough for the nerds either!" So instead Billy went to the bathroom stall and slouched.
Support. Support was something Roger needed at a time like this. Standing in the middle of the war-torn battlefield, with no fellow comrades around for miles, was a frightening prospect. Roger was fearful for his very well-being and hoped for escape.