Occupy – A 100 Word Story

She adjusts herself on the sheet. The technician straps her in and steps out of the room. The table slides her towards the scanner’s large ominous doughnut.

“Hold your breath,” the computerized voice says. A whir, then: “Breathe.”

They saw it first on the x-ray, the little dot now an invading force. “Hold your breath.” Pause. “Breathe.”

It colonized one lung, lymph nodes, spleen. “Hold your breath. Breathe.”

This is what it must feel like to be Iraq, she imagines. “Hold your breath.” Her bones ache with cellular Abu Gharibs and Basras. How much has fallen?

“Breathe.”

“Hold your breath.”

Popular posts:

  • The difference between boundaries and rules
  • Compersion: The Skill You Absolutely Need In Your Relationship(s).
  • Word Porn Quotes
  • Odds and Ends: Optimizing SSHFS, moving files into subdirectories, and getting placeholder images
  • Traffic and Me
  • Bash string padding with SED
  • If there's one Nazi (or a racist) at the table...

Recent Posts