Paper thin

 
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Paper thin
October 11 2004 at 10:55 AM
Harbinger of Death 

After all these years of seeing the Harbinger of Death pluck their classmates from among them at random, nobody at Deb U really batted an eye any more. Nobody was hiding, nobody was plotting. They just went about their business and hoped theirs would be one of the less painful deaths when their time came. So then lots of students were out in the quad playing and pretending to study and showing off their cute sweaters for fall.

“Hurry, or we’ll be late to class,” said Lorel, nudging Aeakos along. He stepped up his pace a bit.

“I don’t see why our teachers couldn’t die first,” he complained. “It’s only fair.”

“You wouldn’t say that if you were a teacher,” Circe pointed out. He just shrugged.

“We really need to learn this stuff about leather and whips anyway, or else we won’t be able to apply it when the need arises,” said Shamba, trying to walk and read the current text chapter at the same time.

“Kiss-up,” mumbled Aeakos. Lorel elbowed him.

“Shoot!” said Shamba, who had stumbled on a rock.

“If you say so,” they heard someone say, and in a whirlwind they found themselves standing in a long, wide hall.

“I feel funny,” said Lorel.

“I feel thin!” said Circe. “I mean really, really thin.”

They tried to look at each other, but discovered they were bound facing the same way and could not so much as turn their heads.

“What’s that down there?” said Lorel, squinting her eyes. “I see people standing there. They’re all dark and weird looking. They have funny hair.”

“It’s not hair, it’s earmuffs or something,” Shamba said. “And they have on yellow glasses, I think.”

“This isn’t good,” Aeakos said. “If it’s what I think it is…”

One of the Things at the far end of the hall lifted something up. It was long and narrow. He put it up to his eyes and pointed it at the Debs.

“Oh man, now I know why we’re so thin!” said Circe. “We’re paper!”

“What? Why?” Shamba wondered. BLAM! “Ouch.”

“Shamba? Shamba!!” Circe called, but there was no answer.

“We’re in the shooting gallery, and we're the silhouette targets. It’s no use,” said Aeakos.

“It could be worse,” said Lorel, trying to be optimistic. BLAM.

“There she goes,” said Aeakos. BLAM.

“And then there was one,” sighed Circe. BLAM.

 
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