Jon Forrester never left his room. Which was common for a writer. The only times were for a smoke, or too lie up on the roof and watch the planes fly by.
The planes were headed somewhere important. Off too burn a couple of traitors, no doubt.Anybody with two functioning eyeballs could see the bombs hanging off the belly of the machines. End of the world shit.
Anybody with a brain knew that the taste of sulfur and gas in the air, wasn’t natural. Nor was the way the skyline would light up like an orange balloon, and then change back to blue, as quickly as it had come.
Jon goes back inside too finish the story, after he has finished the cigarette. Another plane flies by, buzzing the tall pine trees. Shaking the house. The metal tin pots and …show more content…
The muscles in his neck straining. His background noise is a mixture of barking, and the wind shooting past his ears. The bomb falls through too the earth, landing right on top off the dog. Driving the mutts carcass ten foot into the dirt. A messy mixture of strewn up bits and fur. Then, the bomb goes off.
Further down the road, Jon is knocked off his feet, skidding alongside the pavement. The blast is deafening, like standing next too the speakers at a rock show, and the air is immediately a microwave. He loses consciousness.
Jon slowly opens both eyes, pushing off a couple of wooden boards and other miscellaneous items off his back. What looked like to be bits of a house. Both of his arms, legs, and face is covered in black soot. A couple of people are on the road, wobbling around, dazed and confused.
Jon dusts himself off, sighing heavily. Not saying a word. The blast had been big enough to leave a wide steaming crater that used to be the neighbor’s home. Sizzling like a well cooked steak. He turns around, walking through the rubble that used too be his home.
He finds his chair, digging through a pile of rubble. Sitting back. The world is at an empty peace. Jon lifts his head, watching a bonfire of smoke
The planes were headed somewhere important. Off too burn a couple of traitors, no doubt.Anybody with two functioning eyeballs could see the bombs hanging off the belly of the machines. End of the world shit.
Anybody with a brain knew that the taste of sulfur and gas in the air, wasn’t natural. Nor was the way the skyline would light up like an orange balloon, and then change back to blue, as quickly as it had come.
Jon goes back inside too finish the story, after he has finished the cigarette. Another plane flies by, buzzing the tall pine trees. Shaking the house. The metal tin pots and …show more content…
The muscles in his neck straining. His background noise is a mixture of barking, and the wind shooting past his ears. The bomb falls through too the earth, landing right on top off the dog. Driving the mutts carcass ten foot into the dirt. A messy mixture of strewn up bits and fur. Then, the bomb goes off.
Further down the road, Jon is knocked off his feet, skidding alongside the pavement. The blast is deafening, like standing next too the speakers at a rock show, and the air is immediately a microwave. He loses consciousness.
Jon slowly opens both eyes, pushing off a couple of wooden boards and other miscellaneous items off his back. What looked like to be bits of a house. Both of his arms, legs, and face is covered in black soot. A couple of people are on the road, wobbling around, dazed and confused.
Jon dusts himself off, sighing heavily. Not saying a word. The blast had been big enough to leave a wide steaming crater that used to be the neighbor’s home. Sizzling like a well cooked steak. He turns around, walking through the rubble that used too be his home.
He finds his chair, digging through a pile of rubble. Sitting back. The world is at an empty peace. Jon lifts his head, watching a bonfire of smoke