The Colour Lime
She stumbled into the shelter, breathless.
“They took the Perkins family last night.”
“All of them?”
She nodded, lifting her hand to caress my face.
“Why do they hate the Limeskins so?”
“They need someone to blame.”
“But I don’t want you to die!”
“I don’t want you to die either. You’re not safe here.”
We hugged; just hugged, like old friends saying goodbye.
After she left, I put a grenade in each pocket, clipped one to my belt and rested the rifle barrel on the stone ledge.
I heard the twigs snap before they entered my line of sight.
I stole my title from The Lime. My story was inspired by Doug's story from last week. I became obsessed with the idea of protecting everyone's humanity, Limeskin and all...