Wednesday, August 30, 2006

Silenced

Shit!

Shit!
Clear this mess up; I don’t want another enquiry on my hands.
Get rid of the bodies.
Take the ones that are alive. And talk to them.

Let’s get this over with.

Dead.
Dead.
Dead.
Dead.
Fuck this one is alive.

Fuck he is British.

What?
Passport.
Shit!
This isn’t good.
Talk to him. Talk to him!

What’s your name?
Can you hear me?
Can you hear me?
Are you hurt?
What’s your name?

He won’t answer.
Son of a …
Why is he staring like that?
He is giving me the creeps.

Maybe it’s shock.
Oh don’t give me those fancy words damn it.
Just a few questions. And we could end this right now.

What?
Look at him. You think he can hear us?
What!
Shit are you saying we made him deaf?
Can he sue us for this?
Doubt it.
He is British.
Then maybe you shouldn’t be saying it out so loud.
Pass me a fucking light.

His eyes bore into theirs. He decided if he couldn’t hear their questions, he wouldn’t have to give any answers. It was time to move on.

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