Tears
Photo prompt -© Santoshwriter
He had been a helpless witness to the killing of his friends and
relatives. One by one they had been reduced to ugly stumps. Each one had
been a glorious sample of its kind that had blossomed for decades.
All those who were still alive, anxiously waited for the Sun
to rise. Even if some survived the day, they couldn’t avoid the gloom; others would
have been felled.
Sun was yet to rise but he could sense the arriving machines
and monsters.
He looked around. He did not want to cry but he could not
stop his tears.
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A post for
Friday Fictioneers on a photo prompt.
Word count-98