The War

By CL Bledsoe

When I couldn’t put up with the noise anymore, I went and found someone in green.

“Can you move it a bit further away?” I asked him.

He pointed me to another man in green and this one pointed me to a woman. She sent me back to the second guy but I couldn’t find him so I decided to cross the lines and ask someone there. But they were even less helpful because they didn’t understand me.

I went back to the first guy but he was on the phone. I went back in-side and turned up the volume on the TV. Outside, people in green were dying. The house shook every fifteen minutes or so and I had to keep a top on my drink to keep out the dust. I didn’t mind that, so much. It made me feel like I was stopping at a gas station going on a long trip. Someone banged on my door and screamed for me to let him in. The noise was terrible outside, the screams horrific. There were several of them, now, banging, screaming. I changed the chan-nel, settled in, let them knock.