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One fine spring day, a young man walked home from a long day at work. As he walked home, he saw several planes fly over... seemingly to their destination overseas probably. Thinking nothing of it, he continued his walk home. As he walked the two miles from his job to his house, something kept showing itself in his mind. 'Those planes couldn't be heading overseas from here... they were flying too low and seemed to be carrying some sort of ordinance between them.' The young man dug through his bag for his glasses and realized he had left them at the office again.
"Dang. Wish I could see better." He said under his breath. He looked once more up at the planes that were flying over. They seemed to be slightly higher than before. 'Maybe they're just practicing some new maneuveur or something... but then, why would they be carrying something between them? Aren't all their bombs small enough to hold inside the planes?' That same nagging voice said in the back of his mind. Either way, he decided to pick up the pace a little bit. Something told him that this was not right. When he got home, he was planning on calling the nearest airfield and seeing what they knew about these planes and why they were carrying something that big over a populated area.
No sooner had he thought that then the air raid sirens all over town went off. His heart quickened; his palms started sweating. 'This isn't a drill... run you fool!' said that voice in the back of his head. For once, he was going to listen to it. The planes were now circling higher and higher above the center of the city. The young man ran and ran and he did not seem to be getting anyplace the harder he ran. 'It's no use... it's an A-bomb!' screamed the voice in his head. The thought of an Atomic Bomb dropped on his beloved hometown made his stomach drop through his shoes and his heart miss a beat.
At that point, the sirens were going full-bore; an ear-shattering sound that no one should ever have to hear in their entire lives. The man stopped in his tracks to look at the planes once more... to his dismay, they appeared to be making their final approach over the city. Knowing that it would do absolutely no good to keep running, he just stood there in awe and shock as he watched the planes center themselves over the city. Now that he was a little farther away from the scene in front of him, he could kind of see that the planes were Harrier jets and there were four of them. Attached to each one was a thick-looking cable that was holding onto the bomb.
Judging from the distance he was from them and the height they currently sat at, he estimated that the bomb had to be at least 10 times bigger than Hiroshima; that meant that it would easily wipe out the entire city; perhaps even the entire state and some of the neighboring ones. They were still slowly climbing higher yet... on his guess, they were at least fifteen thousand feet up and the bomb still looked big.
As he stood there gawking at the four planes carrying the biggest bomb he had ever laid eyes on, the siren stopped in mid-wail; it did not whirr down like tornado sirens did... it seemed as if something had grabbed the turbine that produced the noise and stopped it in mid-revolution.
Right as the siren stopped, the planes dropped their ordinance. It seemed as if time had slowed to a crawl as the bomb dropped so gracefully from under the planes. He had time to watch as the jets each scrambled to get away from the city as fast as possible; he had time to see the cityfolk look out their windows in wonder at the silence surrounding them; he had time to say one last prayer...

------
"Life is what you make of it, so make it something good!" - Me

If you have the time, check out http://webpages.charter.net/mystman42/complete_sonic.htm and http://webpages.charter.net/mystman42/stories.htm



Comments

The following comments are for "Day Of The Bomb"
by A.M Brandt

long
Hmm.. pretty long for a flash fiction. But it does fit the category. :)

An unusually conversational style of writing - it's closer to the way the story would be told verbally, with the repetition of the key points, and a lot of colloquial and incidental language. The impression given is of the story being told directly to us by a witness to the events.

Interesting story. What was this bomb that needed two planes to carry?? (all I can say is they must have been pretty skilled pilots! *grin*). You've left a lot unanswered... but I guess that's the way with flash fiction.

( Posted by: Spudley [Member] On: April 29, 2004 )

wow
Must have been one hell of a bomb.

( Posted by: RedFox [Member] On: April 30, 2004 )





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