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October 10, 2006

Jim: And Then A Whimper

“Help me.”

Those two words, spoken by a child, cut through the radio static like a knife.

“This is Tango Zebra 1245.” I used the call sign out of habit. “Please repeat.”

“Help me,” sobbed the child. “I’m afraid.”

I squeezed the microphone. “Where are you?”

I wish I’d heard silence. Silence meant an open mike. Instead, I got static.

“Please come back,” I begged.

I sat in my shelter, listening on that frequency for hours.

For most people, the world ended when the bombs fell. For me, it ended with a child crying for help that would never come.

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Comments

Hmmmm.........., a new title.

Posted by: Kasac at October 10, 2006 12:49 PM · Permalink

Shhhhhh! :)

Posted by: Jim Parkinson at October 10, 2006 1:04 PM · Permalink