Karina Keasbey

Angel of War

A hot tear ran down a dirty cheek, the ground rocking as another round of air strikes flowed around the little cellar with a metal door. Violet eyes full of water refused to blink, never wanting to forget the faces it could see. In her tiny dirty hands, a small silver heart lay open, her brother on one side catching a football in slow motion, from the last year she had seen him before he had moved away, on the other mom and dad, forever repeating a quick kiss on the forehead, and her mother’s beaming smile at the touch. Another missile fell too close for comfort, and for no more than a second, her eyes slammed shut as a cloud of dust invaded her dark sanctuary in the ground. Her lungs coughed and sputtered, and she waved a hand in the air to try to clear a space to breathe. The bottom corner of the door had been hit with a huge piece of rubble, ripping it off the hinges, the stormy sky staring back at her. Her locket let her look one last time before the screen glitched, slowed, and fizzled.