He mocks me, that single gray soldier standing in the brown forest. He makes no effort to conceal himself and taunts me saying, “Give it up old man. Put your gun away. You don’t need it anymore. Resistance is futile. Just accept the inevitable and come along quietly.”
But I’m not ready to put my gun away yet nor am I ready to go quietly. I’m not as young as I used to be but I’m not ready for the old folks home, not by a long shot. I’m half tempted to mow down the whole forest to eradicate that solitary gray soldier but that’s too much effort and I’m not sure the barren landscape would be a very pleasant sight. The next time I see him in the forest, I thnk I’ll just take him out. Of course, there will be others to replace him and before I know it, the entire forest will be a sea of gray. It’s inevitable but I intend to resist for as long as I can, as long as the gun still shoots.