Those poor souls

bip

The people are walking through life without care in the world, and whistling their listless tunes. The high shining sun is suddenly blotted out by a large, dark passing shadow. The people all look up and one young boy tugs on his mothers skirt, "mommy why? why do they have to keep sending those bombs?" The mother looks at her son with love in her eyes and tears running down her face " son, don't worry. They aren't after you. Two poor souls have already offered themselves up for sacrafice so that the rest of us may survive".

jsnake

Nicely written. I love a good story!