[ From
Here and
Here and
Here -- ]
To bar partisans, they fall in from literally from nowhere.
Two girls,
one short and
one tall. Both blonde. Both armed.
Both bleeding, though there are far more wounds on the smaller.
Thrown from somewhere
far away. Into the couch.
(If you were sitting there, it's not your night.)
The smaller of the two hiccuped out. "Medic."
"My country for a medic. And a bottle of vodka."
Beat. "Not necessarily in that order."