Bodies spilled out of the side-slapped bus, spread across the highway like sacks of meat spit out a giant sprinkler. A column of black smoke rose out of the bus from the rocket strike. From inside the bus, a bloody hand beat at the spider-cracked windshield trying to escape the creeping flames.
On the lakeside road, some of the children started to stir. The broken and bruised began to scream in pain. Others did not, incapable of speech, their mouths fused shut with molten seat covering and ravaged flesh.
Across the lake, Tom and Howie jumped up and down in glee, the now-useless LAW tube dropping out of Howie's left hand.
Originally posted on July 20, 2008 on Myspace.
Some brief fiction writing.
Saturday, February 19, 2011
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment