Listening to Resistance by Muse I wrote this.

The road ahead of us seemed endless. Maybe it was. The fog had thickened with the growth of the day. I was afraid that in the evening we would have had to stop or we would continue the walk like blind men in a maze.

Andrew was a few steps behind me, looking tired and strangely quiet. I could not stand. I could not bear it when he talked constantly about anything and could not bear even when he was silent. In fact now what worried me was his silence. If he got sick it was the end: I would have had a corpse to drag back and I did not want.
But who had asked him to come with me? I could and wanted to do it alone. It was true that the commander preferred two for this hard task, but I would have accepted anyone but him. And then really I could not understand what had prompted him to embark on what could have been a suicide mission but to his buffoonery, its superior air or his well-known ambition to go to level two without attending the various courses that everyone had followed in the 5th district between tears and sweat.

No, Andrew would never go through. He didn’t have the balls. It would only cause delays with the added worry of having to look after a mindless muscle mass. Maybe, who knows, I could have lost him in the fog ...


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