The Nuclear Bomb

I’m in the country, a small village overlooking a large stretch of hilly fields on my way to meet some friends. I’m steadily walking across the field when the boys suddenly sweep over the edge of the hill; they’re shouting, running, telling me to ‘RUN!’

A nuclear bomb is about to explode as we run back the way I’ve just come, back to the top of the hill. We’re struggling with speed, neither of us extremely fast – we won’t get far enough in time for safety. It hits; there’s no clear sound of explosion, just the large pink cloud edging closer and closer as we turn back once again, this time running towards an out building built from breeze blocks. The others didn’t follow, they ran the way they’d come, but I’d chosen the only haven possible.

I dive in just as the cloud of warm air hits, shutting the door, diving further into an inside storage cupboard as I watch the aluminous pink shining in through the cracks between the roof tiles and the blocks. I’m partially conscious of the enormity of this event, that it’s highly unlikely I’d survive the radiation, yet hide all the same.

I wake…


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