Once again, Jack regained lucidity. Wow, he thought, that was like a bad paperback novel about astronomy! He sniffed the air. It was foul with the smell of death but qualitatively able to sustain life. Why was it so quiet? Was he deaf? Was the battle over? Was everyone dead? The weight on his legs was becoming oppressive.
Lily lay back in the soft, green grass of the pasture. White daisies, golden brown-eyed Susans, prickly blue vipers bugloss, and frilly Queen Annes lace surrounded her. She beckoned to him from what seemed like miles away. He hiked through the grass calling her name. She began to stroll away from him into the distance. He had to reach her! He loved her so! If they couldnt marry, he would make her his mistress! Nothing could extinguish the flame of his love! He would cling to that until his dying day.
Lying stationary was taking its toll on Jacks circulation. His feet and hands were numb. Something was tickling his nose. He managed to tilt away from the irritant, whatever it was. He was so thirsty! He tried to lubricate his lips with saliva but had none. His bladder felt like a separate entity that would overflow. He could stall the urge to void no longer and allowed the urine to flow out of him. What did it matter now? He was as good as dead anyway.
The fort stood in the center of the pasture. A moat filled with sharks protected its walls from any possible intruders. Jack pedaled his bicycle as fast as he could. The sharks whipped back and forth so quickly they created foam on the surface of the water. He had to cross the drawbridge before it was raised, segregating him from his regiment and his pregnant wife, Lily. She saw him approaching and skipped onto the bridge to greet him. The bridge was rising. The sharks were in frenzy! He rode as if the hounds of hell were after him. He had to reach her!
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