The flames in George’s hip jumped, entrails devouring the tissue below. He limped to Lora’s bed and stretched his bad leg across it.
“Alright,” he said. “Alright. I’m here.”
“Pop Pop!” Lora said. “I’m on the last level!”
Lora always begged George to watch her play video games. Sometimes, her tone was just perfect.
The screen flashed logos and went black.
“Are you ready to make history?” a voice said. “To become immor–”
“This’s the loading screen,” Lora said from the floor, legs crossed, neck folded back.
A dial appeared in the corner, counting to one hundred.
George went to his leg. He rubbed it. The pain wasn’t new, nor was its timing — he always chased Lora around during her visits. But he believed sight guarded against the pain’s advance.
An explosion burst. He ducked, folding into his leg. Fire scorched his right side. He shrieked.
“Pop Pop!” Lora said. She laughed her high giggle. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” George said. “I’m fine.”
He rubbed his forehead, air hot through his nose.
“Patterson,” the voice said. “Get your ass out there.” Continue reading “Immortality”