He looked through the viewfinder, but couldn't find the view.
"Excuse me, sir? Can you please move a bit to the side? I'm trying to take a picture of my son, and if you don't mind . . . Thank you."
The camera whirred slowly as it struggled to focus on the distance. He started recording. Nothing happened for ages. Suddenly, he saw movement. A pair of boots moved up the ladder and disappeared into the shining white carapace. Only a few minutes left.
The proud father zoomed out to get a better shot. He could hear the speakers in the background yelling numbers, decreasing every half minute.
The time arrived; every nerve in his body tingled. His son had lived for this day. His son had worked for this day. His son had struggled and strove. He was so proud.
Ten to one and then
Ignition.
No lift, just fire. Too much fire.
The camera flew into the grass. It whirred slowly as it focused on his flying feet.
He was running to save his son from forces beyond his ken. Who would tell him that there was nothing left to save?
That's terrible. Also kind of fitting for today.
ReplyDeleteIs your life hell today? What happened today? I'm unaware.
ReplyDeleteDoesn't matter. Oh, and I forgot to say good job. I'd say good story because it's sad, but it IS a good story...
ReplyDeleteThat sentence came out wrong. "I'd say" = "I didn't say"
ReplyDeleteYups. I really found it quite depressing to write.
ReplyDeleteI hate that, but I suppose somebody has to. Forbid that we'd have to write something with a happy, crushing ending. :P
ReplyDelete