If The Sky Is No Longer Blue

The warmth of the sand, the pricking of the thorns, the laughs of the kids playing within the concrete walls and the touch of the skin of my loved ones. It's a good day, a fine day. I walk down the lane, wave to the good old shop lady as I walk over to buy some groceries. I look up to the sky. Such a pretty blue, I think to myself. I stand in the queue to pay the bill.

Then I hear it. The sound. The horrifying sound. I see them as I turn around. The planes.

All coming towards us. I see the flag on them as the wails of people around me get drowned in the noise of the engines. Everywhere is chaos. Everyone runs. I run too.

I hear explosions, the intensity of which drives me deaf. The explosions that bathe the dry sand with blood in red. I trip over a broken block of concrete and fall. I look up to the sky as I see the last plane deliver its mission. I see it falling.

The bomb. On me. On us.

One last time I gaze at the sky. Filled with smoke and dust majorly, but a small patch still shows it's a beautiful blue stretch. I capture it in my heart for one last time. For who knows, if tomorrow my sky will any longer be blue?