Saturday, August 23, 2014

Post Apocalypse #3 Before the Begining

The old drifter spit tobacco juice between my feet.  "Mark my words boy" he drawled "The world ain't what it used to be. Things are different now and gettin' weirder everyday. If you don't toughen up, you might as well just go into that field over yonder and dig you a cozy little six by six hole cause you'll be needin' it sooner rather than later." He laughed then. Not a happy, joyous sound.  A haunting alomost wicked laugh. Then he climbed into his battered pick up and rode off down the long dirt road into the mountains.

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