A Roll Of The Dice - 01
This series of narrative fiction is based on random words that are picked via dice rolling.
Invasion • Childish • Uniform • Save • Low • Recommend • Overconfident
Part 1
My uniform chafes at the groin and the ankles. The sturdy material is cheap and uncomfortable, perfect for quick distribution to entire populations on short notice. The greyish hues of the urban camouflage print are low contrast, which means they’re hard to spot amidst the wreckage and debris of the city. But they’re of no use here in the rain-washed foothills. The mountains show little of the scarring that the cityscape below is marred with. Verdant new growth has obscured the once charred hillocks that became temporary battlefields. Our little grey band of survivors pulses like a bruise against the damp greenery.
A Roll Of The Dice - 01
“Perhaps nature would provide, we thought childishly. Since the invasion, nature has provided little but death.”
It was foolish of us to think we might hide here. There is little left to scavenge, and any plants that yield fruit are out of season. We’ll need to return to the city for supplies in just a few days. Our overconfident trek into the hills was not fueled by necessity, but by a hunch. Perhaps nature would provide, we thought childishly. Since the invasion, nature has provided little but death. The toxins of war spread to the wildlife. Plants no longer offered us oxygen. They’d been forcibly changed through biological weaponry. Animals too: the meat was inedible. At least it was useful, though. The oil-slick carcasses provided plenty of fuel for fires.
I wish I could say there was something left to save here in the foothills, but it was a graveyard. No, that would imply bodies. It was a void. There was nothing but the now intoxicating plant life and a few load-bearing walls that refused to fall with the rest of civilization. We’ll trek back in the morning. For now, the masks come off for a few minutes. Might as well get high off the vegetation while we’re here. It’s not something I recommend. The toxins take years off our lives, the spores catching in our lungs. A few cough up blood clots before re-masking. I breathe deep, putting my mask back on just as the hallucinations start. It’s not a good high, but it’s better than reality.
