Everything he saw was proportioned to the size of...
Everything he saw was proportioned to the size of a forest, but a new forest, one he had never seen before, and quite odd
A few ants meandered past his nose, turned about to look up at him, and then waddled onThey seemed the size of cows, or the way cows would look from the top of a high hillHe watched them pass out of his line of vision
Goddam, they're cute little buggers, he thought weaklyHis head settled on his forearm, and the wood darkened before his eyes, turned upside down as he fainted
He awoke, he drifted out of unconsciousness perhaps ten minutes laterAnd lay there motionless, wavering between wakefulness and sleepEach of his senses seemed to have sprung free of the other; he would stare emptily at the ground, women's rolex watch or close his eyes and breathe, only his ears alert, or his head would roll on the ground, his nose twitching over the faint bouquet of earth, the pungent spice smell of the grass roots, or over the dry decay of mold
But something was wrongHe raised his head, listened, and heard some men talking softly in the field ten yards awayHe stared through the tall grass, unable to see clearlyHe thought it was someone in the platoon perhaps, and he worked his throat to speak, and then stiffened
There were Japanese in the field, or at least he heard men talking in a strange guttural, pitched in odd tones, rather breathlessHe felt a choking horrorTag ends of all the stories of Jap torture flicked his brainSonofabitch, they'll cut mah bay bag chloe nuts offHe felt his breath escaping through his nose, slowly, with compression, stirring the hairs in the nostrilHe could hear them puttering around, their words slicing abruptly against his ears
"Doko?"
"Tabun koko
They were thrashing the grass, moving around againHe heard them coming nearerAbsurdly, he began to repeat a jingle to himself"Doko koko cola, doko koko cola He buried his face in the earth, mashing his nose against the groundEvery muscle in his face was working to keep from making a soundAh gotta git my rifleBut he had left his gun a yard or two away when he crawled deeper into the grassIf he moved to get it, they would hear him
He tried to decide, and in his weakness he felt like weepingIt was all too fendi spy bags much for him, and he burrowed his face into the ground and tried to hold his breathThe Japanese were laughing
Wilson remembered the bodies he had disturbed in the cave, and he began to argue silently as if he had already been capturedShoot, Ah was jus' lookin' for a little souvenir, you men understan' that, they wa'n' no harm doneYou can do the same to mah buddies, Ah don' give a damnA man's dead, he's dead, don' do him no harmThey were swishing the grass only five yards awayHe thought for an instant of making a rush for his gun, but he had forgotten in which direction he had crawledAlready the grass had straightened, leaving no swathHe tensed his body, squeezed his nose against the earthHis wound was throbbing again, and omega deville watch beneath his eyelids a suite of concentric circles, colored blue and gold and red, bored into his mindIf Ah jus' get out of this
The Japanese had sat down, were talkingOnce, one of them lay back in the grass, and the rustle traveled to his earsHe tried to swallow, but something gagged in his throat; he was afraid of retching and lay with his mouth open, spittle dribbling over his lipHe could smell himself, the sharp bite of his fear and the sour flat odor of the blood like stale milkHis mind carried him for an instant back to the room where his child, May, had been bornHe smelled her baby scent, of milk and powder and urine, which blended back into his own stenchHe was afraid the Japs would smell him
"Yuki masu," one of them wholesale tiffany