I'm very glad to start writing here with the inspirations of the guys and dolls who work at their craft of writing.
THIS WEEKS PROMPT IS: "DISPOSABLE MEN"
Injected plastic, green, posed in crouches, sights drawn on targets. Sabers reaching toward the azure sky, little boys issuing the battle cry: "FOLLOW ME, MEN! TO GLORY!"
The battle ensues. Giant hands reach for the fighting force. Moving each soldier forward. The lines of battle have blurred. A dog stands over the dusty ground, tongue lolling, drool, sliding, down. A waterfall upon the JADED combatants frozen forever in combat stance.
Up fly the boys: quickly forgetting their game of "WAR" and the molded fighting men. The bugler, the infantry men, oh yes, even the brave Calvary solider scatter about the feet of the masters of doom as the boys dance through the very lines of battle drawn earlier. The men disperse: fallen, forgotten, lost. Rex, the dog snags one in his mouth. The vestages of this poor emerald colored fighting man will appear tomorrow after running the course of intestines and fecal matter. As with most armies, these are the "DISPOSABLE MEN" of the nation of boys.