Fissile Material

She was already cooking before we got to Los Alamos, I see that now. In Houston, she had friends and places to go and her parents weren't really that far. I had more time for her. There were things keeping her from going off the deep end.

She keeps escaping from the infirmary. They're just not equipped for this sort of thing, but everyone's concerned that if she's sent off-base, she'll talk about the work. Lord knows what she's heard.

This time they found her out in the desert, half-naked, twirling a lasso. I just don't know what to do.

23 comments:

  1. Leaves me wanting more, much more!

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    1. Let's just say that she's having a Betty Draper kind of year. ;-)

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  2. Which spawned which -- the composition or the picture? Either way, give me more. Now.

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    1. Well, clearly the picture came first :-) This is a photo prompt from the Mag (click on the picture to go to the prompt post) Thanks for reading and commenting!

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  3. What else can you do but adore her....

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  4. Curious and intriguing; well written.

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  5. She must have seen something out there mate ...it flipped her ! Well done

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  6. Sounds like the Funny Farm maybe? Nice one!

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    1. Yeah, I don't know if she's crazy or if she's just Amanda Palmer-ing it. I go back and forth, but I sort of lean towards the latter.

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  8. It’s the windmills of her mind - there’s nothing you can do.

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    1. Every time anyone uses the phrase 'windmills of her/his/their mind' I immediately think of the muppet show gag with the monster with windmill legs singing that and running faster and faster and faster until he explodes. Which gave me nightmares. So THANKS. hehe

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  9. Your tale has lassoed us in David. A captivating write for sure. :-)

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