Wednesday, February 10, 2010

Tristitia Militis Immortalis

by Robert Gryfft

I feel the cold fingers of the quantum scanner probe my every molecule, nuts to noggin. Shuddering, I wonder if it's the first time. I always get this crazy urge to scream, ask how many times I've died so far, what day it really is.
They wouldn't tell me. But I don't really wanna know.


Rob said...

don't stop me now

Anonymous said...

Hey Allen, are you sure?!?