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A Furious Foetus
Aug 15, 2009
I had a dream I was a soldier in WW2. I was sneaking my way through a typical French town, I had no weapon but a bayonet and the shadows cast by the late afternoon sun. Every building was detached which was lucky for me as they provided a steady flow of cover to run between. Loose rubble and bits of destroyed cars littered my path and made it difficult to move quietly. I was heading out of town.

I notice a German soldier standing in one of the gaps between two houses, his cigarette smoke gave him away as I could smell him before I could see him. He was facing out into the street guarding something I wasn't privy to. I snuck around the back of the building and tip-toed up behind him, bayonet ready. I had to keep it quiet.

His breathing quickened the instant my arm went around his face, I could feel saliva and snot moisten my skin as he fought for breath. I could feel the slightly grainy texture of his rib cage as I slid the bayonet in. He was too busy trying to pull my arm off his face to reach for his sub and fire off a round. Good for me. I whisper into his ear that I'll see him in Hell. I tell him God is on my side. He stops fighting and slumps to the ground and I relieve him of his gun just in case things get too hairy.

Then the dream ends, I wake up and shake my head laughing, "God's not real."

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