When the Ashes and Dust Settled
by William C Spell | Score: 2450
When the dust and ashes have settled, when the sirens have all died down, when the cities have been reduced to rubble, that's when you know the good times have come to an end.
Or have they? I mean, I am still here talking to you. We weren't in the city when the war began. We weren't anywhere near the gunfire and explosions. I suppose, as far as the warmongers were concerned, we don't even exist. Shame for those caught in the crossfire and drafted into the armies. Still, with the capital gone, nothing will be the same. Then again, when have things ever been the same?
My name is Frederick Randall, and I was a simple bank teller visiting my parents' farm in Wisconsin when the war began. Major cities were targeted: New York, Washington D.C., San Francisco, Orlando, Las Vegas, pretty much every heavily populated place in the U.S. It wasn't just the U.S. though: Paris, London, Berlin, Stalingrad, Tokyo, Seoul, Hong Kong. The entire world has gone mad. That is, if you would believe the news, at least until all the major news stations got cut out. Internet, too. Even the radio. Modern living has ended. Yet, in the countryside, life goes on.