Machine Of Death

He had not read his slip of paper. It was folded in an envelope in his left pocket. In his right pocket were several books of matches, and he was wearing a backpack. He pushed his way through the scrubby pine trees on the west border of the barrens. "This isn't how it works, you know. The machine is playing word games. You can't just say what's going to happen ahead of time. That's not how physical law works."