B: “Wha..?”
A: “Which side, which side are you on?”
B: “Which side of what?”
A: “Of the war, of course.”
B: “Oh. I'm not sure; what are my choices?”
A: “Good or evil.”
B: “Ah. Well, then, I guess I'm evil.”
A: “I'm good, myself.”
B: “Hm.”
A: “Do you mind if I sit?”
B: “Sure, go ahead”
A: “Ahhhhhhhh...So, what are you doing out here?”
B: “I dunno...I guess I just like it out here. It's peaceful. What about you?”
A: “I'm trying to get away from the war.”
B: “Why go all the way to the desert?”
A: “Well, it's easier than the moon, and more effective than the library.”
B: “Ah. So basically, you just like it out here.”
A: “Yep.”
A: “Why is your hair so long?”
B: “Because I'm a girl.”
A: “Really?!”
B: “What?”
A: “Well...”
B: “What is it?”
A: “I've never seen a girl before.”
B: “Come on.”
A: “No, really! My Dad raised me and my brother after my mom died, when I was born. We lived in a basement until my Dad died; when I came up, I found a completely deserted town, just outside this desert.”
B: “Wow.”
B: “So what happened to your brother?”
A: “He died in the war.”
B: “Oh.”
A: “So what about you?”
B: “Huh?”
A: “What's your story?”
B: “Oh. I'm an only child. My Dad was one of the survivors from the Hammerhead.”
A: “No! The submarine?”
B: “Yeah, the submarine. He came home when I was sixteen. He was...disturbed. He would fidget with this little mini submarine all the time. My mom tried to help him, he yelled at her a lot. Me too. Then one day, my mom left.”
A: “I'm sorry.”
B: “It gets worse. My Dad killed himself a few days later. After that, I got a job as a grocery store clerk, I wrote poems on my breaks.”
A: “Christ, I'm sorry.”
B: “It's okay, I get along pretty well.”
A: “You're not going to kill me, are you?”
B: “Why would I do that?”
A: “Well, you know...”
B: “What?”
A: “Well, you being evil and all, and me—”
B: “Oh, that. Nah, I'm not gonna kill you.”
A: “Why not?”
B: “Because you're like me.”
A: “How so?”
B: “You like deserts.”
A: “Oh.”
A: “You promise?”
B: “No.”
A: “Well, I guess I'd better leave pretty soon.”
B: “Me too.”
A: “Why?”
B: “What?”
A: “What do you have to go back to?”
B: “Oh. I'm a soldier.”
A: “What!?”
B: “Oh, don't look so shocked.”
B: “Look, I'm sorry. You really bought the grocery store thing? Christ man, how many grocery stores do you see around here?”
B: “Well, I'm leaving now.”
A: “Why did you say, 'What are my choices'?”
B: “What?”
A: “When I asked you which side, why did you ask what your choices where.”
B: “I wanted to see what you would answer.”
A: “Fuck you.”
B: “Pretty strong. And just here did you learn that phrase?”
A: “My dad said it a lot when he yelled at my mom.”
Timothy J. Foley
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