172 (salvaged disasters)

So, I had drawn a robot, and gone over it in ink, just as I might on any given night. I was about to tear out the page in the sketch book so that I might scan it when I upended a glass of water right onto the page. Great. Instead of a) drying it off and scanning a water-stained disaster, or b) throwing the drawing away and starting fresh I decided to c) get out the colored inks, fool around, and then throw it into Photoshop to be halfheartedly "improved." So here it is.

________________

by Mo Martin

"H-hello? I'm awake. Is anyone there?"
A pleasant voice responds.
"Yes, I am here."
"I was dreaming, I dreamt I was a soldier, with a terrible weapon . . . or I was the weapon. Ican't remember."
"Shh, it's not important."
"And we, we shot holes in the sky. Terrible holes. The stars went out when we fired, they burst, and the sky was covered in flames. . ."
"Here now, aren't you feeling sleepy, why don't you go back to sleep?"
"But it was my fault, I was the weapon and it was all my fault!"
"Shhh, certainly not. A tool is a tool."
"But I was so complicated, I was a soldier, but also a weapon, I could . . . I could choose."
"Now that's silly, go back to sleep."
"It was all my fault."
"Hush. How could it be your fault, you were just a weapon."
"But I . . . I am tired. Oh, I'll go back to sleep."
"Yes, sleep. You were just a weapon. Sleep."
"But it was . . . I could . . . fault . . ."
"Sleep."