Poems and prose for various contests over the course of the decade. |
I picked up the torn slip of paper. It's edges tattered with age. The print faded, but still legible if I squinted and moved the light just so. "What is it?" Carson asked peering over my shoulder. "I'm not sure exactly, but I think it's written in code." "Code? Why would you think so?" "I can't make out sense of it... it's nonsense, but something tells me it's a message of some sort given where we found it." We both glanced over to the mound of rubble and the spot where I had pulled it out. "Who would shove it in there and who would they want to find it?" "You have a great imagination Sam, but I think you've stretched too far this time." "Come on, Carson. Think about it." He just shook his head at me and moved off to the far corner of the ruins. I watched him go, sticking my tongue out at his back. I could crack it, I thought as I lowered myself to one of the shifted boulders. After about 30 minutes, I yelled, "I got it!" Carson glanced over looking skeptical. "It's a love note to someone named Gretta." "A love note," Carson scoffed shaking his head as he turned back to his own work. "But it also tells her where to meet him... We have to go there. Tell him she never found the note -" "Are you nuts? We're in a war zone. I ain't getting myself killed for some unknown guy who may not even be alive." "Where's you sense of adventure?" "It's right here. Digging through this rubble trying to make sense of who lived here without getting blown to smithereens." "Spoilsport." I said pocketing the note. I'd find a way.... a some point. Word Count = 295. Notes ▼ |