It was time for the daily inspection.
A quarter-turn to the left, knees apart, face down. The medic and his assistant came down the line. Backs first. Then arms–legs–chest–neck–face.
They found one. A boy no older than fifteen. My neighbor to the left. His breath smelled like jasmine. Hands, soft as a baby's. I wondered if he'd ever kissed anyone.
Death was a cold lover.
"No, that's just a bruise. I hurt myself yesterday in practice. It's nothing." His adolescent voice broke as he pleaded–the boy who'd never be a man.
It was radiation, again.
YOU ARE READING
Short & Sweet Stories
Short StoryA collection of short stories that're mostly written in the genre fantasy or sci-fi. Many of these will be prompted responses for a contest or something of that nature, so the updates are slow and random. You have been warned and now enjoy~ ♥(ˆ⌣ˆԅ) ...
