rocks… bones…
The vapor trail looked odd, as though it should have started from the horizon, but didn’t. It billowed wide at the base as it arced lazily into the blue afternoon. Some turned to look as I followed it with my eyes.
…and perhaps some survivors.
Some turned at the murmur that rose as the second vapor trail began close alongside the first; the two uncomfortably parallel, symmetrical, and final.
rocks… bones…
A lady in front of me bent over double, and threw up, as the third began next to the second. In the background, far in the distance, maybe twenty more; looking delicate and fine like the white hair of a dog under a microscope, all of them leaning in unison as though they had been groomed only a moment ago.
…scorched and ashen.
The gut wrenching silence was almost enough that you could hear the fourth as it rose, but not quite, not enough to silence the sweat and fear and sudden knowledge that all that had been, that all that you’d imagined would always be, was gone; like dust and mist and sunsets.
rocks… bones…scorched and ashen, and perhaps some survivors; at least for a time.
Boredom Wars