Her ears were popping with noiseless energy, her nose was stuffed with metallic incense. Her one eye was blind, it viewed with a dirty lens the blurred outline the dust created, of a rooms interior. The roof had caved in and she sat cuddled among it’s skeleton. The rays radiating from it’s injury swept across her skin. Her hands were shaking , her breathing was wheezed and unnatural. She wiped her bloody eye, touching a throbbing wound she reacted. A pinch of pain causing her heart to pound against her chest, deflecting all other sounds . A beating drum with a lethal rhythm. She felt immobile, the shock had stunned her body. The fumes became apparent and they crept into the room. The air became shockingly tense. Recuperating her senses, she tried to stand. Pushing the rubble from her lap, she wobbled with noodles for legs before falling to her knees.
For a brisk moment, she bowed her head. Clenching her flooding eyes. Her disheveled hair couldn’t hide her from the rays that enveloped her in vulnerability . She sat, mute and disorientated. She slowly raised her head, the curtains of her hair opening to bare witness to an unspeakable reality.
The sheer power that escaped the falling tank brought with it ruin. The enemies planes peacefully riding the skies, dropped an affliction that killed many. The incense filling the air was not holy, it was a toxin unleashed to plague lives. It’s vile odor caused the walls of churches to crack, the books to close with glue stains. She saw from her broken home, through the crack in the wall a picture of wars arrogance. It’s footprint had been stamped in the heart of the city. The buildings squashed to the side to make way for it’s baneful stride. She scanned the floor, the sun highlighted the effects. Bodies were laid side by side creating a bloodstained pavement.
Potholes became graves and gutters were bedsides. The shock patterning her face stilled her heart, making her body limp. She represented that of an Edvard Munch painting, the scream she was unable to divulge. A tear scratched her cheek, her iris started to shudder. When scaling the floor, her view clenched onto one picture. That of a body dangling from a tree. A women’s torso decorating the tree’s branches, her fingers became the leaves and her hair a cloth in the wind. The blood dripped on the bark of the tree, where a stray dog licked it as if it were water. It’s mangy body, it’s skin glued to the bone, sat with wild eyes. As if in a self-imposed state, it shook itself, fluffing the hairs sprinkled in red. She watched as it strode down the path of bodies. Running towards the war cry of death.
