Tuesday, January 24, 2012

Can't think of a good title for this story .....

The soldiers glanced up at the sky grimly. Looks like rain, they said to one another.

A few men were nervous. Many preparations had been made back at home for this day. They wrote their wills, trained hard for hours on end, and, if they ever died in battle, said their final farewells to their families. Many other experienced soldiers all had their battle faces on. They had seen it all, back in their day. The pain each one suffered had chiseled his heart into stone; into a heart that only Clint Eastwood can have. They no longer felt the nervousness the rookies were now feeling.

Each soldier was equipped with a wooden spear, and not just any ordinary wooden spear. Inside each spear was a lethal cylinder. When the spear was sharpened, the cylinder would be sharpened as well. The cylinder can be ground into a fine powder. After stabbing their enemies, each soldier would mark his victim with the powder, so other soldiers can be sure the enemy is dead.

When everyone was ready, the leader stepped in front of them all to give them his usual pep talk. The rookies hardly listened; their hands were covered in sweat, and their spears shaking as they trembled.
The army stepped out onto the battlefield. The clean, white, almost paper-ish landscape would soon be covered with corpses and the blood of the soldiers and of the enemies'.

The enemy army popped out of nowhere. They were surrounded!

Quickly, the soldiers went to work. One stabbed another creeping behind him. He rapidly ground the tip of his spear into the powder and messily marked his victim. Others did the same. Rinse, and repeat.

#1, #2, #3, #4, #5, #6 ....

To the army, the battle went on for hours, and hours. Many fell to the overwhelming weight of the enemies. Some still pressed on. Sweat dripped from their brows, staining the now-dirty paper under their feet. As the wounded lay on their backs, they closed their eyes, hoping for the battle to end quickly.

The time was 8:30 AM. The battle was drawing to a close.

Many students had already turned in their papers. Those who had not finished yet were experiencing that last rush of adrenaline, the urge to finish quickly.

I, who had also finished, yawned and lay my head to rest. The semester finals, the battle of the year, was over. For now ......

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