Lines of Attack


From everywhere.

Duke ducked down.

A slug grazed him.

Another bullet struck his arm.

One earlobe was torn clean off.

He felt scalding lead burning one thigh.

The fusilade was cascading down from every direction.

Pops and whipping cracks filled the air like fireworks.

As another shot buried itself in his back, Duke crumbled.

In a faltering voice, he called to the heavens for salvation.

In the din, he thought he heard an answer from up above.

"Duke, you've really brought this upon yourself, you know," it seemed to say.

"After all, you wandered stupidly into this story and put yourself in harm's way."

As a slug ripped into his abdomen, Duke wearily considered the truth of the statement.

Eyes fluttering, he realized too late that the expanding sentences made for all the extra shots.

If only, he thought dreamily and dying, I had been written into a short form Haiku instead.

The End

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