The Thing (an Excerpt)
The soldiers stood waiting impatiently for the sun to shine. They stood next to the THING and bent their yellow flaxen and black woolen heads back. They scanned the sky earnestly. Steel gray clouds hung low, crushed their spirit, and made then look dwarfish. They spat, cursed, and shifted their feet as if they were grinding ants with their boots. Women stood with them, flank to flank. Their uniforms fit them like balloons and gave them hulking shoulders. They cursed louder than the men.
The Civillian populace stood on the sidelines fanning flies and.watching also for the sun. They were eager for a reason to wave their crimson and royal blue flags. They wanted excitement, some kind of violent diversion. Football no longer made their asses twitch in ecstasy. Not even when the players were pitted against wild boars, bulls, or wounded elephants. The Civillians wanted nore. They stood on the verge of a whorehouse of an orgasm. Only the shining sun could release this last nut of lust and blood.