by Robert Gryfft
It loomed behind us, weaving through the smoke and screams. I grabbed Sarge's sleeve; sighting it, his eyes widened. "It's a liecopter! GET TO COVER!"
"FUUUUUCK!!" screamed my profanitycannon.
Familiar voices issued from above: nostalgiarays. "Go, honey. I'll be right here."
Those bastards.
My vision blurred at the reminder, yet somehow I aimed true.
"FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!!"
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
Encroaching
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment