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May 4, 2014 | by  | in Features |
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Molotov stop

(Stuff written on drugs)

I claim to be just a youth of the world at large. We watch a helicopter flying over the school one time at lunch. I don’t really know what or why but I whisper to myself that it’s okay and something will come of it regardless. Myself and my friends attend a most deceptively quaint little school. We think it’s decidedly commonplace really. Dear me though. It’s all fine. Apart from the staring out of the windows and seeing a SWAT car drive past. On such occasions it’s certainly been said that thoughts other than mine are easily fed and later on I wonder if it really was you who saw those things happen and sat on the side. While all of us kids are trying to hide, there comes from the woods the thing that we were all stupidly afraid of. But we couldn’t see properly because of the field and the big fence that stopped the quaintness of our school seeping into the woods and diluting their quiet malevolence. Someone had said we weren’t allowed to go outside. Most of us thought that that was pretty fucking funny really. I mean, in the real world things don’t usually happen like that. They have more of a snap and they keep going right to the end. To see such horrible things going on tends to be quite distressing for some but not these particular specimens. No indeed. These creatures of torment simply fall behind in the expression of satisfactorily sympathetic noises. Dear me what a mess. That’s what I say. We’re in a field and it’s a large field and we’re looking for something that we had been told not to find and these are the moments of lucidity that have to be seized because otherwise everything else slips away. And so we go out and there are five or six of us and no one wants to go further because we’re all fucking terrified. So it’s just me and this other guy and I don’t know why because it seems strange to me that I’m one of the bravest ones but we don’t know what we’re going to find. We don’t know what we’re looking for and that’s certainly a barrier. That’s a thing that gets in the way when you try to find a way to stop stop What ends up happening though is that we go into the woods and we can’t find anything stop and the others are all waiting so we start to leave and stop We thought we would find what the helicopter had been looking for but we find something else stop That’s right stop We find these boys and they’re from our school stop But they start chasing us stop And one of them has a Molotov cocktail and that’s not even a fabrication and what stop And so we start running and running but we trip over the malevolence and stop It wasn’t the school field anymore stop It was a field down the road from the school stop And they’re still behind us stop And then we’re on the pavement stop and things are getting sparse and rhythmic stop And something is happening behind us and it’s getting closer to us stop And it’s displacing the air behind my neck and it’s right there oh my god stop


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Salient is a magazine. Salient is a website. Salient is an institution founded in 1938 to cater to the whim and fancy of students of Victoria University. We are partly funded by VUWSA and partly by gold bullion that was discovered under a pile of old Salients from the 40's. Salient welcomes your participation in debate on all the issues that we present to you, and if you're a student of Victoria University then you're more than welcome to drop in and have tea and scones with the contributors of this little rag in our little hideaway that overlooks Wellington.

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