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echo: yabbs.poetry
to: ALL
from: Badger01@yabbs
date: 1994-06-28 09:40:17
subject: re: stories

From: Badger01@yabbs
To: hawke@yabbs
Subject: re: stories
Date: Tue Jun 28 09:40:17 1994

You asked for it, man...I hope I remember it right.

Dissonance

The taste of heat crawling in his window again, streaming all over his 
body made him gag, and he closed the shade and prayed that the sun would 
just go away. The sweat on his body was his last sweat, pulled from as 
deep in him as he could go, water he couldn't afford to lose. He walked to 
the fridge and fell over the army field pack he was using to carry his 
clothes around.
"Motherfu..screw it." He tried to snarl, but failed, and everything went 
white for a few seconds. He felt heat build up inside him, and as he 
pulled himself up he went to the faucet instead of the barren fridge. Why 
get blinded by the white glare off of the bare walls? The tap water tasted 
rusty, but he drank it anyway, knowing nothing and being less.

Actually, that's kind of a prose poem, huh?

NEVER MIND
Badger01

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