“What if it doesn’t end?”
“How do you mean?”
“If it’s not all over… when you die… suppose it just changes into something else?”
Billie lights a cigarette, discards the match over his shoulder.
“Something worse, perhaps.”
“What could be worse than this, then?” Billie spits.
“You know what they say, just because you can’t imagine it, doesn’t mean it can’t exist.”
“You know what your problem is, Joe… you think too much.”
“Don’t you wonder though?”
“Nah… life’s too short.”
Joe doesn’t think so.
Billie lunges too late, as his comrade scrambles out of the trench.
If you think you saw a different post earlier on, you did. Trying to do a million things at once, I didn’t look at the prompt carefully enough, didn’t connect with the date, and posted something inappropriate for today. I’ll save that irreverence for another day. 😦 Thanks to Rochelle at Friday Fictioneers for her leadership and support, not to mention her speed in taking down my earlier link when I asked her to. 🙂