He blinks his eyes
\nas if to change the channel<\/p>\n
nothing changes<\/p>\n
he is still surrounded by rubble
\nbuildings tossed as if by
\nthose malicious kids next door
\nlying broken like their
\nslaughtered toy soldiers<\/p>\n
The end of a transmission line
\nsparks wildly in a puddle
\nbeside a fallen shattered elm
\nthen stops, steaming
\nbitter ozone stings his eyes
\nand he feels something warm and sticky
\nhis hand is clutching Gerry’s
\nred and orange face
\nlike his own
\nmade up for the game<\/p>\n
Will it be postponed?
\nIs it playing on perfect green turf
\nin the security of the UniDome\u2122?
\nHe lifts his remote and presses the buttons
\nbut the Viera\u2122 60″ screen is gone.
\nHe weeps, and sits waiting for the game
\nto resume.<\/p>\n
[print_link]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
He blinks his eyes as if to change the channel nothing changes he is still surrounded by rubble buildings tossed as if by those malicious kids next door lying broken like their slaughtered toy soldiers The end of a transmission … Continue reading