by J.R. Parks
It was silent amidst the slaughter but for the hot brassy rain of shells clinking against the sandy streets, until at last the fiery spout ran dry. The whir of radio chatter lulled into a quiet hum, and what would have been the roar of iron monsters, slowly and softly sputtered out with the hiss of thirsty fuel tanks. Kevlar coated suits and sweat drenched checkered scarves bobbed through the crooked rebar forest, and the heat waves shimmered golden on the air. Mute cries were further muffled. Hand signals hushed by severed thumbs. And spirals of black smoke fell like shadowy blankets over America's sons.
J.R. Parks is a children's author and writer of speculative fiction and poetry. Some of his other works can be found here.