Vending Machine Lunch Read Online Free PDF

I'm just doing my job so my family are safe and are
comfortable.”
    “So you don't
care about the bigger picture? You don't care that everything is
spiralling out of control, that your kids will be part of a future
slave race?”
    “I can't afford
to be a prophet. I've got to do the best I can with what I can do.
If I can ensure that my kids have another day of food, another day
with a roof over their head, then in my mind, that's mission
accomplished,” said Jonathan, “Now please, what is your
choice?”
    “Shoot me for
all I care,” hissed the weeping madman on the ground.
    Jonathan's
finger tightened on the trigger. The sun was seconds away from
being totally gone, the wind blowing slightly on top of the curly
hill. Below, Jonathan saw that the crowds hadn't calmed, they
probably never will. Several fires had now started below, many
people trying to escape the carnage, some still attempting to
protest peacefully, but the majority just generally causing havoc.
He moved his second hand to his gun, and forced himself to look at
the suspect.
    “Lost your
nerve,” the suspect laughed and wept, it wasn't a question, it was
a statement.
    “No. I'd just
like to thank you for what you've done,” said Jonathan calmly,
“You've just gone and triggered another big riot. Someone will have
to pay for the damage caused. I thank you for essentially putting
our taxes up even more.”
    “You do know
what they say don’t you?” spat the suspect, his eyes crossed,
focused on the barrel of the gun, “When there is no more room in
hell, the dead will walk the land. Well, cut me out of all of
this.”
    Jonathan didn’t
react to the suspect’s rambling speech. He just pulled the trigger.
With a bang, the bullet shot through his body. He howled with pain.
The last few seconds of sun were now gone, and the streets below
were now beginning to light themselves orange with burning flames.
Jonathan pulled the trigger again, several times, bang, bang, bang,
bang, bang. One of his bullets had hit the suspect in the head. He
was well and truly dead.
    Jonathan
slipped the gun back into his jacket. The wind had suddenly begun
blowing stronger now, the fires below still raging. Without a
sound, after pausing and looking at the disaster below, Jonathan
made his way back down the hill.
     

I Never Liked You.
     
     
    Jessica was furious.
Although, she refused to let her face show it. She pulled out a
locket from her cleavage and stared at the engraving on it.
     
    K.B.O
     
    As far as she
understood, it was an old war phrase, from many of years back. Keep
Bouncing On. She didn't quite understand why the word 'bouncing'
was used, however, she understood that it simply meant that in
times of trial, you cannot give up.
    Wrapping her
hands around the locket, she gripped it tightly before taking a
deep breath. In front of her, a mass of angry faces were in uproar,
all talking amongst themselves furiously, as though what Jessica
had just suggested was pretty much unthinkable. Behind her, a few
rows of speakers who were on her side. This, was the House of
Speakers.
    Beside Jessica,
was her aid, who went by the name of Jack. He was a small and
shrewd man, with no facial expression, never giving away his inner
feelings, if he had any. She leant across to him and said over the
noise of the outraged opposition that she felt like giving up.
    "Why," shouted
Jack into her ear.
    "Gentleman,
ladies, please," said the organiser into his podium's microphone.
The organiser was a person who was meant to control the political
debate, but take no side, a bit like a referee in sports games.
This particular organiser wasn't very good at it.
    The overcrowded
side of the room began to simmer down, some still talking in
disbelief about Jessica and her suggestion. Jessica caught sight of
Jordan, an opposing Speaker from the corner of her eye. He made his
way from the overcrowded rows of wooden benches and placed himself
at the microphone'd podium at the front. His