copyright Marie Gail Stratford
Code Red
When you build your civilization on the chin of a sleeping giant, certain precautions are essential. The citizens of Menton all remembered the Twitch of ’62 and the Slight Yawn of ’78. Now, there were rumblings far below that portended something greater, possibly even a belch.
“Upgrade to code red,” the security officer said. The soldiers carried the luminous signboard around Mouth Rift and propped it against the giant’s nose.
A moment later, gale force winds started rushing into the nostrils. Sneeze sirens blared.
“What did you do?” the officer yelled.
“Nothing! Just used a new paint called Cayenne Red.”
The Green-Walled Tower 