It might as well have been a scene from Rambo. The crumbled bricks that they would have once called home were not safe in this place. So they sat around a scant fire in what appeared to be a dug out groundhog hole, judging by the stuffed groundhog head these people kept next to the entrance ladder. The men and women around them were unfamiliar, hardened shadows of those they had known back home. But there was no such thing as Roger Winkler and Lukas Schmidt in this world, and it was all the better. Neither believed they would be alive in this world at this point if they had existed. But it didn’t make it any less painful for Rog.
“I told you Lynn was just a slut, Rog.”
His hand stopped midway down Foamer’s fluffed back as he glared over at his companion. “That is not Lynn, Lukas, and if you dare refer to Lynn that way again, I will leave you here.”
The sad mockery that this world called Lynn Speares had slept openly with at least 6 men since they had been taken into the hideout. Another shell crashing above ushered her back into the firelight. This was not his Lynn. He had to know that. His Lynn was waiting for him back home. He would not let himself think otherwise.
Sorry for the delay on String Warping for Homosexuals, everyone. Long and crazy weeks lately. Sending this from my phone so I’ll make it short. Another installment hopefully tomorrow. Leave comments and all that jazz. Cheers all!
S. Virginia Gray