Грань будущего

           "Ifthelookonmyfaceputyouoffyourlunch,Iapologize."Nousetryingtostartafight.

           "Holdit.Youtryin’tosaythisismyfault?"

           "Idon’thavetimeforthis."

           Istartedshovelingtherestofthefoodonmyplateintomymouth.Heslammedapalmthesizeofabaseballglovedownonthetable.Onionsoupsplashedonmyshirt,leavingastainwherethelunchlady’sbesteffortshadfailed.Ididn’treallymind.Nomatterhowtoughthestainwas,itwouldbegonebytomorrow,andIwouldn’tevenhavetowashit.

           "FourthCompanygruntsnotworththetimeofthemighty17th,thatit?"

           IrealizedI’dunwittinglysetaveryannoyingflag.Thisloophadbeencursedfromtheget-go,really.IhadaccidentallykilledFerrellattheendofthelastloop,andthathadthrowneverythingoutofwhackthistimearound.FromwhereIwas,ithadn’tevenbeenfivehourssincehe’ddiedvomitingblood.OfcourseI’dbeenKIAtoo,butthatwastobeexpected.Ferrellhaddiedtryingtoprotectafuckingnewrecruit.Ithadbeenjustthespurmymigraineneededtokickintoagallop.

           I’dplannedtoeasemymindbystaringatRitathewayIalwaysdid,butmyfoulmoodmusthavebeenmoreobviousthanIrealized.Clearly,itwasbadenoughtotriggersomethingthathadn’thappenedinanyofthepreviousloops.

           Ipickedupmytrayandstood.

           Theman’sbodywasawallofmeatblockingmyway.Peoplestartedtogather,eagerforafight.Itwas1148.IfIlosttimehere,itwouldknockoffmywholeschedule.