• The people, endless amounts of people. Crowding, pushing, trying to get out of our doomed city before it was flattened to the ground by the bombs that had been coming more and more frequently. The wind threatened my weak straw hat as I pulled it closer to my face. My son tugged on my long skirt and I looked down to find his face covered in soot. Our house was the first to go up in flames. Thank God I was a light sleeper, that is, if there is a god. “Mama?” my son asked. He pointed to the street where the soldiers passed.
    “Why do they get to stay?” My breath suddenly didn’t want to leave my lungs.

    “They aren’t staying, Monty, they’re coming.” I said to him.

    His eyes grew and understanding settled onto his small, dirty face. The war had come to us.
    Black clothed people streamed out of the city. Dawn. We had left at midnight and we had only exited the cities gates a moment ago. I stared back at the lit buildings, they looked lived in, peaceful. Of course that would be so if the planes weaponry overhead hadn’t done it.