Oliver had to leave behind Joseph’s body, the extra weight being too much to carry through the green fog. With one last ditch effort, and the final clean gasp of air from his filters, Oliver sprinted to the last table of the mess hall.
“Tommy!” He screamed, taking off his gas mask. With a leap he jumped over a dining chair, and landed on the last table. In front of him was Tommy, the source of the gas. Determination in his eyes, Oliver smacked the fork from Tommy’s hand.
On his last breath, Oliver begged, “Stop farting, you fat fuck.”
Copyright © 2019 by Luka Tatsujo
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