The Draft – a 100-word story

We sat nervously in the great hall of the university, staring at the little bowl in the center of the room – it innocently sat there with the potential to destroy all our student lives. Of our three buds, Jimmy went up first. His nervous hand dipped into the bowl as if it might bite it off. He looked over at us: ‘997’. Next it was Al’s turn. He rummaged to the bottom: ‘579’. Not so good. Then it was me. I picked the number, ‘102’. “All you with numbers below 300, go home and get ready to go to Vietnam”.

bobby stevenson 2017


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