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.
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