#5 The march continued for hours without an end in sight. The sun set with only a half-moon to take its place, leaving the surrounding land in darkness and nothing but the long dirt path stretching on forever ahead of them. Several times the orange-haired boy felt himself falling asleep as they walked but when he almost tripped and fell and only stayed aright by chance he felt more awake. The other boys seemed not to notice the change from day to night, nor did they seem to notice much of anything. The whole time he had been with the company none of them mentioned a word of welcome and he saw that their eyes never moved from their glassy focus on the gruff leader in the front. The leader, that is the big man with the enormous clanking pack, didn't say much of anything either, aside from an occasional snarl or cough. The orange-haired boy did not like the feeling that the eternal quiet march gave him, that feeling like he was among a troop of unsuspecting animals being led to their death at the orders of a crazed chef.
(To Be Continued...)
I like the "unsuspecting animals being led to their death at the orders of a crazed chef."
ReplyDeleteThat's the way it is every other day where I work.
*We the unwilling, Led by the unknowing, have done so much, with so little, for so long, we are now qualified to do anything with nothing*
Proud father of a writer in fear!