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Somewhere in the Middle East. Scene 3

04/06/2011 15:13 (comments: 1)

A short story

stealth bomber


Smells, colors, he closed his senses.
Colored cries, faces, children form on his face as on an oiled canvas…

In the distance, shadows…
They ape ignorance, the other transparency…

They stir, threaten, try to live.
He moves like in a dream, a reprieve, a truce.

He left the infidels for his appointment with the ultimate.
That horns, that stinks, that squeals.

The place turns into a funeral vigil.
I am dead, you’re sad, she suffers.
He is bruised, we are the justs, you are the mourners, they are evil !
The tomb of the market.
Recently, the howling of the helicopters, crying the torn buddies.

“Ali, I have to find Ali, the shoe shop.
Ali ? Ali ?”

“Ali is late, he still doesn’t make me miss my last performance in this pitiful World. Maybe ? He has been arrested ? Will I have the courage, the strength, the faith for another day?”

“Aliii ???”

“And then I see him, Ali gives me a discreet hand sign. I read in his eyes a hint of admiration. He helps me to put the bag on. This is heavy the death.
Furtively, He slips me the object of the judgement into my hand , this little dark thing that will open the door of paradise to me , which will open the gates of hell to them.
I’m ready ! I cross Kay’s gaze, his blue without compassion eyes, that freeze my blood, then grows the hate inside of me.”




I vanish, they fall…
The stalls are flying in the air, members, tears, Ali also…
Destroyed sounds…
The peace in my heart…
The serenity of my soul…
The fire, the sweetness…
Red and black are the only colors !

“I think on my daughter and my grandchildren, destroyed by that stealth monster, which try to eradicate another monster named Saddam.
My house, my refuge, in an instant, the grave of these loved ones.
My cry rings out again and again when coming back from work, without understanding, I see my wife in tears, near this obscene mountain that was my pride, my home.
The cry that forge my hate.”

The sweetness The voluptuous……

And then…


I think on my daughter…


I think on my daughter…


I think on my daughter…

This work is protected - © 2008 Thierry Benquey - All rights reserved

Image bomber - U.S. Marine Corps photo by Cpl. Robert R. Attebury - 2005 - Image Terror - Work of the U.S. federal government - license :

Public domain

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Comment by mesSengeR | 04/06/2011

je vous remercie pour cettte image :)