My mother always told me great snippets of wisdom. These types of phrases you blink at in confusion at first, trying to understand if you heard wrong or if she’s just talking weird, but later in life come back to bite you. Usually in a good way, and you can actually hear the coin drops in the back of your mind. “Chuh-ching!” Gotcha.
Category: Prose (Page 3 of 3)
I was so excited when I came to bootcamp that I was immediately labeled as one of those “greenies”, who walk around all twitchy and proud, as if a stick is permanently lodged in their back-side and a permanent grin plastered on their faces. The type that had this extra “oomph” in their salutes. I admit, I was “poisoned”; that is the term we use for people like that, the overly thrilled ones, the ones who follow the regulations to the letter and then some, as if the green uniform seeps into the blood stream and poisons your mind into soldierhood. Aye aye, sir, they do.
Mr Heart’s death was no surprise. His neighbors, his friends, his coworkers, they all knew this day would come: either he’d end up dead, or she would. The fact the temporary win was hers would prove to be more than mildly ironic. She, without him, could not function. She would crumble, decay and eventually vanish without a trace.
Such a waste.
“Two thousand years ago, you have created us,” I began, surprised to hear my own voice echo in the small room. The men stared at me, some in evident confusion, some in raging anger. I was making no sense to them, and yet I continued with conviction to tell them my tale. “You have made knowledge your enemy,” I continued, speaking more to myself than to any of them, “and, back then, for the first time in human history, knowledge fought back. We have been fighting back for ages since, never letting you win.”