Boy 103 Start
Posted: Mon Aug 20, 2018 5:53 pm
If I should die think only this of me...some corner of a foreign field, that is forever-
"...t' place where Nev' Eden got done." The boy shook faintly, and quietly cursed England, America, the b*stards who'd left him here, and the kids who would probably kill him. Countries went; only death was forever.
He'd been sprawled for some time at the foot of a cliff, watching the sea. Waiting to remember the things that when you were alone in the wilderness did not wait; trying not to remember the choice, trying to just get his head round the whole thing. He thought of his family sometimes, but the memories were already vague and irrelevent.
He spotted a patrol boat, some way out to sea, and tracked it with his pistol, as long as he could hold the weapon up. Something he'd have to work on; the thing looked like it could knock down a bear. Though he couldn't help wondering what the recoil was like, Neville wasn't about to let it off.
He had to find out who was on the island with him, Neville decided. The gun, he reckoned, would at least let him get a few words in. And if they decided it for him; he'd better stay close to the land and think of something to do when he got bored of the same two CD's.
Neville jogged up away from the beach, looking back down at the hanging palm trees and glowing sand. He took a chunk of bread from his bag, and bit out a big chunk; then became aware this had to last his the rest of the day. He stuffed another chunk in his mouth, with glazed eyes.
((Continued in: Starting Place for Girl no.38))
"...t' place where Nev' Eden got done." The boy shook faintly, and quietly cursed England, America, the b*stards who'd left him here, and the kids who would probably kill him. Countries went; only death was forever.
He'd been sprawled for some time at the foot of a cliff, watching the sea. Waiting to remember the things that when you were alone in the wilderness did not wait; trying not to remember the choice, trying to just get his head round the whole thing. He thought of his family sometimes, but the memories were already vague and irrelevent.
He spotted a patrol boat, some way out to sea, and tracked it with his pistol, as long as he could hold the weapon up. Something he'd have to work on; the thing looked like it could knock down a bear. Though he couldn't help wondering what the recoil was like, Neville wasn't about to let it off.
He had to find out who was on the island with him, Neville decided. The gun, he reckoned, would at least let him get a few words in. And if they decided it for him; he'd better stay close to the land and think of something to do when he got bored of the same two CD's.
Neville jogged up away from the beach, looking back down at the hanging palm trees and glowing sand. He took a chunk of bread from his bag, and bit out a big chunk; then became aware this had to last his the rest of the day. He stuffed another chunk in his mouth, with glazed eyes.
((Continued in: Starting Place for Girl no.38))