Roger has provided us with this week’s prompt for Flash Fiction for the Practial Practitioner.
The Wall
Sharah reverently touched the ancient wall. Old paint chipped and peeling made by methods long forgotten. “Caribbean Green” the elders called it. Colors were rare now, all structures sported the same dull gun metal grey finish. The wooden walls surrounded a strong and solid bunker, where the humans had made their final stand.
From here they had launched the Magnetized Pollution Concealotron, and thus burned the sky to ash. The invaders had been driven off, but the cost could never be forgotten. The nuclear winter that followed wiped out more of the earth’s population than the invaders ever had.
Word count 99
Til next time ~Peace ~JPP
Wide Eyed Wonderings 
I so like this, on several levels. I feel it carries a message too subtle to otherwise put into words. And which you’ll probably chortle cos it wasn’t your intent at all.
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Thank you so much, I was hoping to convey that sense of loss, regret, and tiny bits of triumph that I always feel at a memorial site.😉
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Mmm. 🙂
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