Member-only story
FICTION | 500-WORD | FATHER
Flash for the trash
Today’s 500-word stories.
1
Skies over Acedia
The early morning sunlight crept through the narrow opening at the foot of the bunk bed, casting a pale, cautious glow on the cracked walls and ceiling. The wooden and brick shelter had endured three years of assault. With air thick with damp and dust, this structure stubbornly protected its occupants from the enemy above.
For a moment, Bobby was uncertain of where he was. Then it hit him- another night spent in the air-raid shelter. He turned his throbbing head slowly, scanning the dim, suffocating space. Then he shifted under the thin covers before peeling them away. His bare feet met the concrete floor, and a biting chill shot up his legs. “Ooh,” he winced but made no sound. He was used to the cold now, he was used to a lot of things.
When Bobby climbed out of the shelter light gave way to the garden. It was as he remembered it, but beyond, the world looked different. The row of houses stood together, but they were not untouched. Some roofs had caved in, windows shattered, and bricks blackened with soot. His own home remained standing, but it carried the scars of the night before.
