Sherman in the Reverse

Somewhere in a dead expanse, flowers are growing. A desert is turning into a forest and no one knows why, no one expect Howard. Howard know that above all else there is balance. There are few things that could hope to balance the inequities that was placed in front of him and a blooming desert might just do it. On the horizon, the second dawn was approaching from the shore. It was stories tall, blocks wide, red and leaving a scorched trail of black.

Howard stood against his house watching the horizon engulf. Melissa had locked herself in the cellar, sure of her hero’s abilities. Howard wished he loved someone more reasonable but there was nothing he could do about that. He waited with rifle in hand, a radio tuned to something country and ten boxes full of Federal Ammunition.

As Nelson turned to Cash, Howard sighted the monster that was the horizon. With the same dedication he put forth throwing a stone across a pond, he pulled. The bullet wandered into the distance. Inevitably it hit but unsurprisingly, the monster did not abate or even flinch. A .308 had little effect on a bus and much less on this critter. Rudely, a news broadcast interrupted Howard’s country music to tell Howard that a giant fireball was coming for him. Howard was less than shocked.

“Eye witness reports indicate that ten minutes after ten, a giant jet black reptile about the size of a city block emerged from the Atlantic Ocean. The creature then ignited upon contact with air. The flames themselves seem to reach some hundred yards away from the monster. It is believed that Savannah, Georgia has been literally decimated with some ten thousand dead reported. It’s moving on all fours inland towards Atlanta. If you are in between Savannah and Atlanta, authorities urge ” *kssht*

The news was getting downright depressing and Howard was tired of listening. Howard sighed, resigned to his fate. If there was someone to save Melissa it would be Howard and Howard couldn’t bare the idea of being without her anyways. You can’t choose the ones you love however, from that day on Howard would choose balsa wood for any further projects; contractors be damned. That of course hinged on him living through the next fifteen minutes.

He knelt on one knee into the dirt his father bought some eighty years ago. With futile fervor he pulled the bolt and reloaded. He pulled and repeated thrice. According to Melissa, that fifth bullet did the big sumbitch in. The thing had fallen dead right in the middle of the crops. Howard could do nothing but scream his damn fool head off. Soon it was a two part harmony, as Melissa realized they weren’t dead. She had finally left the cellar.

“Honey, I don’t recommend you try that again. I believe that’s my alotted courage for this life.”

They lived happily and cowardly ever after.

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