Flash Fiction My Craft Stories

The Dead will Pile Up

“Ready,” the squad officer shouted out. I stood at the ready waiting for the order to shoot. Five rifles with laser sights pointed at the target dancing with my heartbeat. I took a short breath. The laser lights danced again. “Citizen, society demands control, which you have none of.” The words bounced in my rattled head. “You will learn to control your impulses. Or the dead will pile up.” Freedom or conformity. Transformation or tradition.…

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