Flash Fiction

It was the last day of the thousand year war, and it seemed that he had spent a lifetime in a land of dreaming where dogs turned to demons and those demons spat fire. Avoidance of the obvious was the only strategy, it was the same yesterday, and tomorrow, and five seconds from now. It was his leading edge, his way to stay alive.

He'd lived so long with carnage that calm was not even a memory.

He swallowed the final pill and as he slowly dissipated the last day of the conflict spluttered to its close.