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(Written for a 50-word story challenge at WritingForums.com)
A lieutenant named Sergevich
At an eastern missile site
Spilled his coffee on the launcher
And the missile took to flight.
A lieutenant named McGarry
Deep within a western hill
Saw the missile on the radar,
Hit the button, took a pill.
Alas!
Despair!
It went downhill
From there.
------
It wouldn't be right to dream, while
Forgetting to live, it seems;
Nor would it be right to dwell on life
And yet forget our dreams.
-If There Were No Magicians
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Everybody's Dreams
