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M

When Martian hordes invaded, we fled to the forest.

Though safe, we had no food or water.

"Whatíll we do?" Lisa, asked. "Iím famished."

"I think a Morganite settlement is just beyond the woods," I said.

"Whoíre they?"

"An End Times religious cult. They live in communes. I heard they hoard food. They paint big Mís on their buildings."

The next day, we reached the end of the forest.

"Look over there," Lisa yelled. "I see a barn with an M!"

She raced toward it.

"Wait for me," I hollered.

Ignoring me, she disappeared among towering cornstalks.

Then came horrible screams.

Peering through the cornstalks, I saw Martians tear Lisa apart and jam the bloody pieces into their filthy mouths.

I couldnít tell which was worse: my biting hunger, burning thirst, or terrible guilt for telling Lisa how Morganites marked their buildings.

I didnít know Martians did the same thing.

Story by:

Michael A. Kechula

m.kechula@att.net

submitted at 5:34pm

6 May 2009

Michael's stories have been published by 107 magazines and 30 anthologies.