staring at him and suddenly screaming, "Run, Lewis, Run!"
And knowing what was in that box...that box filled with blood, sinew and brain of other foolish American soldiers. Those idiots here fighting an unknown cause for an uncaring country. Lewis grabbed the box and threw it out the window before it stole their souls. BANG!
...descending...colder...deeeeeperrrrr...there was something down here with Lewis and a smile flitted across his face. Black and frigid and somehow his . . .friend. Deeper. Two-hundred feet, and the light shone on more spiraling stairs. He was in Heaven. Finding closure. How pleasurable...deeper....deeper...more bats flapping and shrieking past his ears.
Then there was Dansbury, laughing with him inside that foxhole. Telling him jokes all the time, "You know the story about the guy..." Dansbury knew all the jokes and was an avid Hendrix fan. He told Dansbury to let him scout the next area. To stay in the hole and cover him. Dansbury waited, because he had a high school sweetie waiting for him and he'd even shown his best friend, Lewis Thames, a nude pic. So Dansbury went ahead, rifle drawn, and there was this clever trap of spikes that he spotted. Saved his buddy from impaling his flesh like the other two skeletons in the ghoulish hole. Dansbury even had tears in his eyes! "Thank you, buddy."
...Descending...deeper...arctic (Lewis shivered and blew smoke rings with his breath) No bats this deep. His ears starting popping from the depth change. The light shone on green slime on the slick wet concrete.
...deeper...freeeeezzzing...Lewis could barely move now as he heard the voices cut through the wind.
"Shooshine! SHOO . . Shine." laughed Walker. Lewis suddenly felt very wrong as he shone the light on the walls which were no longer black empty voids, but white teeth closing in. He looked back up the stairway and it spiraled forever into the pinhole of light.
"You know the story about the guy..." Dansbury's monotone bounced off the encroaching walls. Lewis turned and started running up the stairs. He threw his backpack, the grating of the walls converging, suffocating his existence. He could see the light above growing as he drew closer—"...who lived and his friends who didn't?"
Sweat poured off Lewis's face as he climbed until he fell...the bomb had gone off, the trap had sprung, and Lewis would face just one more day. Forever.
Pains in the Glass
Wanda removed the tiny shard of glass poking from her hand after hanging up the phone.
Her mother had called and said her father had been sleeping around for years. She'd lamented to Wanda for almost two hours, apparently knowing about the indiscretions for over twenty years but finally accepting the inevitable end. Wanda kept telling herself how relieved she was that Tim loved her so much and would never hurt her that way.
"See you in a week, babe," Tim said, melding his mouth with hers, tongues wriggling for position. "What's up with the hand? Ouch."
"Don't know. Just there all of a sudden. Must have picked it up from the counter." She washed her hand under cool water and bandaged the tiny slit. She helped Tim take his things to the door. Working as a computer salesman, he was always entertaining and on the road, his territory was the Northwest. Tim was worried she'd be bored while he was gone. She told him that her best friend, Beth, would keep her company.
The next day at 8 AM, the phone woke Wanda with a start.
"Is Tim there?" a soft female voice asked.
"Who's this?"
"Jerianne from Phoenix. Tim said he was coming by." A stab of pain racked Wanda's right hand. She looked down and saw two longer pieces of glass and dark red oozing from her hand. She winced, hanging the phone up. She went to the bathroom and used more cool water and Band-Aids. Was Jerianne a client? Wanda figured that must be it. Why didn't she ask Jerianne?
More shards of glass showed up throughout the day. From her back she removed an inch long section. She almost
And knowing what was in that box...that box filled with blood, sinew and brain of other foolish American soldiers. Those idiots here fighting an unknown cause for an uncaring country. Lewis grabbed the box and threw it out the window before it stole their souls. BANG!
...descending...colder...deeeeeperrrrr...there was something down here with Lewis and a smile flitted across his face. Black and frigid and somehow his . . .friend. Deeper. Two-hundred feet, and the light shone on more spiraling stairs. He was in Heaven. Finding closure. How pleasurable...deeper....deeper...more bats flapping and shrieking past his ears.
Then there was Dansbury, laughing with him inside that foxhole. Telling him jokes all the time, "You know the story about the guy..." Dansbury knew all the jokes and was an avid Hendrix fan. He told Dansbury to let him scout the next area. To stay in the hole and cover him. Dansbury waited, because he had a high school sweetie waiting for him and he'd even shown his best friend, Lewis Thames, a nude pic. So Dansbury went ahead, rifle drawn, and there was this clever trap of spikes that he spotted. Saved his buddy from impaling his flesh like the other two skeletons in the ghoulish hole. Dansbury even had tears in his eyes! "Thank you, buddy."
...Descending...deeper...arctic (Lewis shivered and blew smoke rings with his breath) No bats this deep. His ears starting popping from the depth change. The light shone on green slime on the slick wet concrete.
...deeper...freeeeezzzing...Lewis could barely move now as he heard the voices cut through the wind.
"Shooshine! SHOO . . Shine." laughed Walker. Lewis suddenly felt very wrong as he shone the light on the walls which were no longer black empty voids, but white teeth closing in. He looked back up the stairway and it spiraled forever into the pinhole of light.
"You know the story about the guy..." Dansbury's monotone bounced off the encroaching walls. Lewis turned and started running up the stairs. He threw his backpack, the grating of the walls converging, suffocating his existence. He could see the light above growing as he drew closer—"...who lived and his friends who didn't?"
Sweat poured off Lewis's face as he climbed until he fell...the bomb had gone off, the trap had sprung, and Lewis would face just one more day. Forever.
Pains in the Glass
Wanda removed the tiny shard of glass poking from her hand after hanging up the phone.
Her mother had called and said her father had been sleeping around for years. She'd lamented to Wanda for almost two hours, apparently knowing about the indiscretions for over twenty years but finally accepting the inevitable end. Wanda kept telling herself how relieved she was that Tim loved her so much and would never hurt her that way.
"See you in a week, babe," Tim said, melding his mouth with hers, tongues wriggling for position. "What's up with the hand? Ouch."
"Don't know. Just there all of a sudden. Must have picked it up from the counter." She washed her hand under cool water and bandaged the tiny slit. She helped Tim take his things to the door. Working as a computer salesman, he was always entertaining and on the road, his territory was the Northwest. Tim was worried she'd be bored while he was gone. She told him that her best friend, Beth, would keep her company.
The next day at 8 AM, the phone woke Wanda with a start.
"Is Tim there?" a soft female voice asked.
"Who's this?"
"Jerianne from Phoenix. Tim said he was coming by." A stab of pain racked Wanda's right hand. She looked down and saw two longer pieces of glass and dark red oozing from her hand. She winced, hanging the phone up. She went to the bathroom and used more cool water and Band-Aids. Was Jerianne a client? Wanda figured that must be it. Why didn't she ask Jerianne?
More shards of glass showed up throughout the day. From her back she removed an inch long section. She almost
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