Monday, January 24, 2011

4.6 A Plastic Minefield

Half Breed ~ Richard Salcido

There was a gate to the left of the church doors. It squeaked reassuringly as Atom entered a shady field to the side of the church.
The field had been decorated with rows of grey headstones, all shaped the same, like a mass grave for an army of massacred men; men torn down by the rotating blades of technological warfare on a distant planet where life is considered cheap in comparison to capital gain.
Atom peered at the nearest headstone; the inscription read:

Here lies Atom
He was one of a kind

Coincidentally the next headstone carried the same inscription. And the next… and the next. After checking headstones at random for some minutes, Atom came to the conclusion (using statistical probability as a guide) that all of the headstones carried the same inscription.
Atom held the answer at bay with the idea that perhaps they were fucking with his head. It was an idea that he was not sure he preferred in favour of the alternative, but it was his idea so he held onto it.




8 comments:

10thDoM said...

The River of Mnemosyne returns February 1st.

You swimming?

JeffScape said...

Irony in truths. Or sincerity in lies?

And I bet the other buried Atoms kept their ties!

Garth said...

Jeff: the relativity of truth mebbe

Yodood said...

The civilized world considers everyone Atom from womb to tomb for all it cares, individuals are subject to public education to make it so — the caring and the compliance.

Garth said...

Yodood: I love the way you use words like 'civilized' and 'education' to convey your disdain for both - brilliant :)

Harlequin said...

i'd have to go with fucking with the head, too, under the circumstances; and as mind fucks go, it's a good one!
surgite, atom...

Garth said...

Harlequin: Yes, to believe that you are merely another Atom from the mould is far worse.

JeffScape said...

Just backing up one chapter to refresh the memory...

That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

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