Salt speckled his face as he watched the Emerging sun across the ocean. Every Approaching vehicle startled him, but He knew better than to hope for her Orange Vespa to ease the knot in his belly. Resignedly, he watched the Soft snoring bundle in his arms, Embracing the solitude, and her legacy.
The War was over. The sky matched the ebony of the earth beneath, the silence reverberated across the valley. The War... Was it, though? The smoke spoke of fireballs descending from above, the abnormal mass of smaller blackened bodies suggested a massacre. The War was over.
‘Jeremy–’ ‘Bye, Mom.’ ‘Will you–’ ‘Be home by ten? Yes.’ ‘But–’ ‘Pick Jackie up first, I know.’ Without a backward glance, or a kiss farewell, The door snapped shut. ‘That’s not what I meant,’ she sighed, Setting aside the icing For her birthday cake.