Thursday, November 27, 2014

862. We're the face of the revolution, darling

The fire blazed hot, hot, hot against the face of the girl with the pigtails.
She could feel the heat of her burning home right down to her insides.
When she smoothed the pleats of her dress, bits of ash scattered to the wind.
Her legs swung absently, clanging against the robot's metal shoulder as they lumbered toward the city.