Posted by Diogenes on 2015/05/04 under Uncategorized The barrel was smooth and clean. Or, it was clean when compared with its previous state. Although, a worn, dirty rag could only do so much by itself, and there was no cause to be passive-aggressive towards it. Dmitri sighed into his hand, half-seriously reproaching his selectively astute, inaudible, psychotropic cacophony. He reminded himself of the fact that he was a denizen of a very non-abstract, very real setting, and, having been slightly and unpleasantly but probably beneficially (at least in the short term) sobered, he got up and half sauntered, half limped on his leg that he had sat on too long to the barn. On the way he stole occasional glances at the sky and the trees, squinting when his eyes met directly with the bleak rays of the vibrant Sun. In the barn, along with a meager excuse for an arsenal, was one of his friends-by-default, Oleg. He was a resourceful man, and sometimes a cruel man, with a cruel body; an appropriate man, for a time of fighting. The suspected sympathizer had been unconscious for some time now; Dmitri had stopped hearing her agitated screams some time ago. He wouldn’t have come in otherwise. As Oleg nonchalantly washed her blood from his hands in the mule trough, Dmitri asked him if he had gotten any information. “From this little matryoshka? No, no. I had figured she knew nothing some time back, but I was in a cathartic mood, you know? Still, though, I didn’t rape her or anything. Perhaps I’m getting old.” “Perhaps,” Dmitri replied. He then added with an imperceptible smirk, “Perhaps you’re just developing basic human emotions.” “Hah! Don’t get ahead of yourself, boy. One cannot afford that luxury these days.” “Perhaps.” “Perhaps if you talked more, you’d parrot less.” “Perhaps.” Oleg grinned almost good-naturedly, drying his hands. “All this interrogation has made me tired and hungry. Mind that one there, will you?” Dmitri shrugged in response. Oleg walked through the door that connected the barn to the house. Gruff, distinctly male rummaging could be heard from the kitchen. Dmitri checked the pulse of the captive to affirm her viability, filled a bottle with water from the trough, propped it between her legs, loosened her bonds enough for her to grasp it upon gaining consciousness, and then fell asleep on a pile of hay.