The chalk-colored blood oozed from the shredded limbs of the "man", filling the base of the small compartment. He felt the surface level rising across his plasticine skin. But the sensation was not of the liquid rising, but of his body sinking. His last ordered thought, his last moment of resonance before it all turned to static and impulse was, "I am reclaimed."
2 comments:
Sorry Bill...I'm not seeing a story, more like a movie poster logline:
"When the chips are down, who will we turn to?"
Meh?
The chalk-colored blood oozed from the shredded limbs of the "man", filling the base of the small compartment. He felt the surface level rising across his plasticine skin. But the sensation was not of the liquid rising, but of his body sinking. His last ordered thought, his last moment of resonance before it all turned to static and impulse was, "I am reclaimed."
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