War at Our Doorstep
The annotated version of War At Our Doorstep delves into the story, uncovering important details and casting light upon the story’s various ambiguities. The story provided in this post is the original, unannotated version.
The frailty of life is a lesson learned by experience – the likes of our daily existences. Every day, when the fading crimson and golden-hued light gives way to the blackness of night, the menacing drone of bombers and the shrieking alarm which announces their coming brings fear into the heart of the community, and although all do their best to find safety in their homes, their shelters often become their prison unto death.
It all started three weeks ago, when the first HWK-325 emerged from the night’s sky followed by a score more of its kind. The residents of our humble town knew little of the ways of war and were unprepared for the onslaught to come. Many lives were taken that first day, mainly of those who did not heed the alarm. Since then, many of us have not dared to set foot out into the now foreboding pastures of our country which holds such terrors in the night. Our storehouses we have filled with what sustenance we may until the bombers pass (which is our one last hope). Those who have lived to see the bombers firsthand, such as myself, have reported many great wonders, such as the arrival of the AGL-435’s, great white bombers of extraordinary size which fought against the HWK-325 in a war of unknown causes. Perhaps they warred for control of our land, for every day they would annihilate a few of our land’s kind residents in their destructive conflict.
One night, following the death of my only son, I decided it had to end. I didn’t know how, but I would
This is an image I’ve used previously for various video projects related to War at Our Doorstep.
end this once and for all and bring peace to our land. I gathered my family together into our living room and held, perhaps (for I felt a great foreboding), our one last meeting. My wife was the first to speak.
“Honey, you can’t go!” she said with fear and anxiety upon her face. “Nobody has ever left their homes at this time of night and come back alive. Think of your family! Your –” she indicated with a movement of her hand our precious babies, all now teens but for our child of three. “Our children! You can’t leave them without a father. There’s no chance of success; you can’t reason with a bomber! How do you expect to fight them?”
Doubts filled my mind for a moment, but I cleared them away with a shake of the head. “Something must be done,” I said resolutely. “If I die, at least I will be an example for the community – to stand up for our families and fight. We have no hope cowering in our homes, we alone have the power to conquer this plague to our land. I’m certainly no David, but I will stand before many Goliaths. You can’t deter me from this; we must take a chance. Have I ever not returned? I will come back… and I pray with tidings of peace.”
Here is the enhanced version of a photograph I took some time ago of this bird of prey which ascended upon our porch. One of my revisions entailed increasing the level of detail in this graphic in order to accentuate the pattern upon the wings, sharp eyes, talons, etc.
I embraced my children and wife one last time, and journeyed out into the darkness. However, I saw at once my mission was a futile one, as a dozen bombers descended from above, their sights no doubt set upon my now quivering form – it was now too late to turn back. With one fell swoop, one swift action, my soul was carried unto heaven. What would become of my family and our town? Was there any hope to be had?
“Mommy, mommy!” a little girl’s voice sounded in the distance. “A hawk just caught a bunny!”
NOOK Notice: This material is protected by copyright.
[ Now Available at the iBookstore ]
Copyright © 2012 – All Rights Reserved