Served Cold...5 liters...
“You’re going to lose toes trying to walk back to the village barefoot through all this half frozen muck, but that’s a done deal. I’m betting you can’t feel them now, even when you move them around, and that’s bad enough, but unlike you I can see them. Your toes are turning tomato red and that’s the first stage of frost bight....
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"Garrett shutters and reflects on his time deep in the heart of the old city. He found a stash of little manuals, illustrated story books found deep within the ruins just to the south and west of Ridgeway. A few of the little booklets had a cover of a voluptuous woman with white hair, wearing next to nothing. The title of the booklets announced her...
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“I know everything about it. I live in it, every damn day of my life. Too far gone is when the one you love is dead. Too far gone is when you’ve failed them and they’re gone and there is no turning back. Too far gone is giving up on their memory and forgetting them. Too far gone is betraying your faith and your better...
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There's that moment when enigmatic becomes problematic and where your mystery becomes a sob story. You become familiar and easy to read and then you're fucking dust.
"Josephus examines one of the small coins. “I know the meaning of these things. I read about them in my father’s books. The metal was precious and it weighed out to what it’s worth was to the people.” He picks up some of the pieces of paper and shrugs as he sets them down, “These though, I guess there were bank notes, right? Slips of...
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“Well someone needs to give you a metal for self-pity.” The voice chances again if only a little. She’s a woman now, not a girl. Her voice is throaty, hoarse, full of life and bitter knowledge. If Garrett looked up now the figure would be blonde not brunette, she’ll be thin too, just a waif of a thing, beaming ugly beautiful in her rust red...
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Its not a parallel curve, its a flushing toilet...
"Ancient ocher colored fans and sprays of blood show black under the faint light of the green glow sticks. Garrett stops beside a mother and child, their withered grey/brown skin clinging to their bones. The woman died clutching the baby, both of them left to the ages curled up in the fetal position.
Melissa gets close...
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“I said look at me, damn it!”
Garrett lifts his head and sees the girl, red marks still standing out over her mouth and cheeks. The defeated whimper that rises from Garrett’s throat is the same sound he made when he found Elizabeth in the snow so many years before. The memory mixes with reality as he sees the dim gleam of emerald green eyes...
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Prisoners/ex-patriots all...
"Garrett looks at the still form lying next to Melissa. “She made her choice, as mine has been made for me by the intellect.”
“I can’t just let her die.”
"When Garrett doesn’t speak immediately Melissa leans in even closer to the bars between the cells and whispers. “I like her.”
“Gris isn’t a prize for you to win and make decisions for....
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