Article: 288699 of talk.bizarre
From: (Gomi no Sensei)
Newsgroups: talk.bizarre
Subject: Assaulting Tegucigalpa
Date: 1 Dec 1996 23:06:13 -0800
Organization: Best Internet Communications
Lines: 33
Message-ID: <57tv55$>
Keywords: fts

At dawn, as we all ran screaming down the tinder-dry slopes
of the hills that surround Tegucigalpa like the bones outside
a predator's cave, brandishing our flaming limbs so that sparks
flew everywhere (as if we were the ignition of a new sun to
challenge the one rising, a flaming defiance to the ancient
blazing ember that had defined our waking lives), turning the
sere vegetation into a roaring firesnake whose illumination
joined our own to shout our challenge to the dawn in yellow
dancing light, the very ground seemed to shrink away from us, to
tremble under our feet, a little in awed respect for what we had
achieved, a little in horror at the need that had driven us to
it, and the city itself and tried even to uproot itself, to run from 
us (from us, before whom the wind that fed the fires in our wake
hung its head, ashamed!), it sought escape from a vengeance it had
bought years before with an unholy burning we had first suffered,
then endured, then tamed; a fire we did not put outside a crucible
but within one, the better to transform it into the purifying raiment, 
the naked strength, the righteous agony in which we were now clothed
as the hills around Tegucigalpa burned from our footsteps, raining
a glowering yellow light on that cluster of stone temples and
structures of less identifiable purpose, the wooden walkways
connecting them already ablaze as we danced our implacable rage
out on the stones and bodies and embers of the city's body and
soul, its buildings and inhabitants, reducing buildings to rubble,
people to corpses, all to char and ash and an ineradicable stench
that hung low over the valley, waiting for the wind we outran to
arrive and scatter the ashes into the waiting crevices of the

'spend a day and a half dead and the lettuce runs amok.'
		-babs woods