'Allright... where am I now?'
One thing he knew without even opening his eyes: this place was hot. The ground felt like slapping his hands down on a car that'd been driving all day. Toby was surrounded on all sides by dried-out dirt the color of a lion's pelt. Occasional plants polka-dotted the place, like shriveled corsages.
He was in a military graveyard. But not for people. For vehicles. This place was so huge it hurt his imagination. Looking straight ahead, he could see for miles. Uncountable dead hulks of fighter planes, cargo planes, bombers, jeeps, trucks, boats, and even tanks. All of them were skeletons. Every useful part had been salvaged, and the carcasses were dropped in the desert to rot. There were gaping, battered fuselages that looked like the world's biggest caterpillars had been chewing through. Toby could see through long-shattered windows into empty cockpits. Leather seats decomposed to ribbons. There were ranks of pockmarked, wheelless jeeps. An invasion force for zombie soldiers. The odor of rust was strong.
Toby was completely alone out here. In this mass grave of metal, the mouse was a speck.
*****
Jesus flipping Christ, this has been a long time coming. I feel like I'm knocking the dust off a crypt.
My sincerest apologies to all of you I've kept waiting. I didn't want to stop writing, but life coldcocked me. My family pretty much fell apart. You guys don't need the details, but suffice to say it was very ugly, and it's over. I'm finally back at a place where I can reserve most of my headspace for my characters and not myself.
I'm going to finish this story no matter what new hells get thrown at me.
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7 years, 4 months ago
02 Dec 2016 04:57 CET
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