May 04, 2013

No. 372


Station X was on the far side of the middle of nowhere. Visitors never came, and the two men assigned to guard it had long since exhausted every topic of casual conversation. There was nothing to do at Station X but wait.

Indeed, the men had never been told what they were waiting for. On one console of the barren shack that comprised the entire base was a large red light. If the light ever turned on, the men were to press the yellow button on the opposite wall. Under threat of treason, and the firing squad, they were not allowed to leave before completing the task.   

“They’ve forgotten us,” said one man.

“Maybe,” said the other.

Time passed slowly.

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