Up ahead, in the medium-to-far distance, you see a large, armored figure marching along purposefully, an HK XM30 "Weapons Platform" Assault rifle held point-up but at the ready. (Sort of makes some of you glad they're no longer "up there"...) To his left is a somewhat smaller (like only a few shades smaller) armored figure that looks as if he's trying to look in every direction at once. He stumbles often, as though he might be blinded, although he never spares a glance upward. On his right is the match (in size) to the soldier on his left, but he turns disinterestedly away from the flare, already reaching its low-flying peak in the sky, looking forward and away from you guys. If they even noticed you guys. The threesome do not appear to have registered your existence, so who knows? In a few seconds, they are silhouetted by the dancing flames of the fire beyond, then they march out of sight, descending the other side of the hill. Naturally, nothing out here makes any noise except you.
Out there, in the unbelievable distance (Central Park simply isn't that big, folks!) you think you may hear the thump of a distant bass drum. Its booming echoes also sound as if they're coming from far away, their slow cadence marking off the breaths of an athlete at rest: it's vaguely calming, somewhat seductive. Wondrously, it does *NOT* cause fight-or-flight reflexes in any who hear it, as it calmly marks time in the darkness. |
