God’s New Blessed Soldier

Bobby Joe, Bobby Joe shot me. He, he got me. He got me a good on on butt. Damn that hurts. What’s he going? Where? He’s gone. Been here long time. Gotta move. Need to get there. Is that? No, no Bobby Joe. He started screaming, ,,JOHN DOE, JOHN DOE,” and crawled away. The boy still needs a binky. Needs binky but can shoot like a man. That Army growth pills working good. Damn good thing he left. So much for being a parent process. No good with the spawn. Can’t even control it. Next thing I know he’s going to be zombie. And I keep hearing these voices in my head. They keep talking about wanting me to stay alive and run because I they want my head to be right, so they can keep selling my processes? What processes? All I am is a father and a husband. I do a few other things, but really, not much else. Now I’m shot. Shot! This is bad. Bad and going to get worse. Much worse. Are the voices angles? Are they God coming to walk me home?