| OCR Text |
Show THE EXTERMINATOR-72 and leaves to listen to when she couldn't sleep, the tree that brought her the flickers, their bright red underwings and sudden bursts of flight to the window. The birds came to her out of the enormous sky, slicing it smaller for her with their large wings and incisive beaks. "I'm sure I would be," she said politely. "Can you help me then?" He walked up to her, stood close, and for a wild moment she thought he was going to look into her mouth, but he only smiled, showing sharp crooked teeth and breathing the memory of a dinner on her. "Got to go out and get my things," he said. As he moved to go down the stairs, she stood in front of him, barring his way. "Could you bring me some food, and coffee?" "Why can't you?" "You don't understand. I haven't been able..." "I'm very busy." "Please." He stared at her for a long moment, then pushed past her and walked out of the house, moving surprisingly fast for a man his age. She stood near the door long after he had slammed i t , her knuckles to her mouth. A beetle flew into her hair. She let it stay. After awhile it dropped off to the floor and lay on its back, its feet curled upward, waving feebly. They were marching, the boots, the uniforms, the men wearing olive green helmets, all of them looking exactly like him, their arms upraised ready to jab down on her with curving bayonets. Thump, thump they marched, while she lay curled on her back in the middle of a wide dusty road. Thump, thump. Marta |
