The days just seemed to blend into one another. I’d lost count at day seventeen. I hadn’t even realized that so many
“The army isn’t picking us up, are they, Joel?” he asked. I’d been asking myself the same question, but Gil looked so worried that I couldn’t bring myself to distress him further.
“I’m not counting them out yet. Listen, Gil, we can’t give up on ourselves, not ever.” Even if doubts had crept like dark shadows into my head, there was no point in letting on. Some leader that would make.
He didn’t reply, just picked the M-16 up off the floor and walked to the sliding glass door. The view should have been serine. It should have shown the balcony, back deck, pool and woods beyond. We should have been contemplating
“Don’t know how much longer I can keep it together.” His voice was hollow. “I don’t know. The sadness, everyone’s sadness… I hear them, their cries in the night, the walls can’t contain it. I can’t listen to it anymore.” He began to jerk
I joined him at the glass door and watched the darkness distort all that I loved, all that we were. It wasn’t easy to keep
Standing there, remembering all that this view once offered-the beautiful vistas in the fall, the lush greens of the summer foliage, the crisp whites of winter snow- I realized that memory was all that remained of this place. In my mind’s eye I saw the sun come out and cleanly sweep over the trees and the lawn, the field and the pool; all that I
“Did you see it?” Never taking my eyes off the scene, I hoped the vision would return. It was so short lived. Was I
“What? Did you say something, Joel?” Gil’s response was slow and hollow. He was only reacting to the sound of my voice, never relinquishing his stare into the abyss.
“Forget it,” I answered, knowing what I’d seen was nothing more than a memory.
“There’s a hole, you know?” Gil was starting to scare me. I listened as his voice took on a sobering new tone. “A