RAT TRAP
The tanks were coming over the hillside, and
I was holding some French girl in my arms. She
had said her name was Mariette Chaudimanche,
and I had to believe her. To me, her last name
meant 'hot Sunday', but to her it was just a
name. Whatever. I'd never tell a difference.
-
A part of my mind was saying '1944', but I
knew that somehow couldn't be - after all,
I'd just plugged in my charger, and - over there -
some idiot was playing the Beatles. How
confusing a mess can one life be?
No comments:
Post a Comment