…the bombardment intensifies, she curls in the fetal position, hands clamped over ears. The bunker shakes, concrete walls quivering like paper, shockwaves vibrating through her bones. Screams catch in her throat as, all alone, she endures it. But when the onslaught eventually ceases, she crawls determinedly from her sanctuary to survey the wasteland she once called…

By Helen M Merrick