The Rumble

A girl stood on a heap of ruins. The dust was fresh in the air. Her teddy bear was soaked with dark blood. Her ears were ringing, and she couldn’t understand. She looked at the prisoned skies. It was a blue sky. With trails of long smoke. The fighters were coming back for the last check. Her sight fell below. She saw three corpses on the group, splintered and marred in a pool of splattered blood. Their eyes were wide open. They knew it might come. But they couldn’t react to its arrival. There was no time to react. Body parts were lifeless, their eyes open and cold. The deepest cold on this earth in the most beautiful eyes. It was that of her mother’s, father’s and brothers.

The voice speaking Hebrew said the fighters to return to base. They give the confirmation and head back flying over her.

The girl was still rooted to the spot. The roar and rumble vibrating had dulled eardrums and the ground below her legs. Her eyes never left the sight of her family. Her conscious deeply absorbing it. Yet her lips never trembled. Not a single tear escaped her eyes. She stood there, with the wind blowing slightly. A gentle and soothing wind it was. Her hair flew with the wind. Her dust-covered face still looking at the pool. Finally, a scream escaped from her bottled up body. But it was drowned in hundreds of mourning voices that greeted that morning.

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