Factory Reset (Grisaille)

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December 11, 2015 by tsk2001

Mirror Souppaintdaubs

I turn to Doc, who looks worse than shit warmed over. “Doc, stay put”—Jesus, what a stupid fucking thing to say—“and we’ll be back soon with some medical help, I hope. We’re gonna check out the whole hospital.” I look at him closely. Nothing’s moving and I’m not sure if he’s dead. Could he have had a heart attack or something and just died? If he is dead, does that mean he’ll go gray and come back to life, or something like it? Hell, yeah. Life has become some kinda Warholian fucking joke: In the future, everyone will be dead for fifteen minutes.

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Death Palette, by Terry S. Kattleman, is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License
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