The Harder The Pain

Against sticks and stones, the well-paid government terrorists rained down tear gas, sending protesters blindly scurrying for cover into tenement yards, back alleys, and welcoming shacks.

He saw them again the night before, hovering about his place, playing with his fears. How did they know he was home? Lifelike robots made of flesh, in their hands the heavy machinery of death. They were chomping at the bits to launch into action, intent on robbing him of his body, ready to trample his spirit.