Sunday, 6 July 2014

the postman



The box was still there, Cal could feel its angles digging into his burnt back. He’d not imagined delivering it might cost him his life, but now that seemed inevitable. Some kind of ant scurried across his near vision, following imperceptible tracks in the white sand. Time had long since meant anything; just waves of blistering were all that was left.


Cairo was unattainable now, no water, no vehicle, and a broken leg. Delirium had already marked its presence, buffering him against the approaching end. With the last of his energy he rolled over and gently prized open the lid.


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