大象传媒

It had become a routine, same time every night
Sirens wailing
We grab our things, clamber into the shelter
The drone of the bombers hurry the stragglers in
Maisie knitting, as usual
Stan fretting about his vegetables
Joan swaps gossip with Lil
Youngsters Judy and Dick squabble over a book
This to a background of whizzes and bangs
The ground shakes and shudders
Stan hopes the Pub is okay, Lil fears for the Butchers
By now they can roughly judge where the bombs fell
Maisie's needles click clack faster
The booms and explosions are closer
Then silence

Clanging bells, the emergency services busy again
Any minute now the welcome wail of the 'All Clear' would sound
Joan gets up "I'll put the kettle on."
The children smile in eager anticipation at her
"We can have some Carrot Cake too." She winks
Our jovial neighbour hauls herself up the steps
She shuts the door behind her
An ear-splitting crash shocks the area
The shelter shakes violently, supposed fixtures fall
Nobody speaks
Stan stands up
Maisie drops a stitch
Little Judy's face crumples
Young Dick buries his face in Lil's apron
The 'All Clear' sounds

Stan opens the door
Rubble bounces down the steps
A cloud of gritty dry dust follows
He looks to where the house had been
A tottering tower of one corner remained
Curtains cling to a shattered window frame
A dim narrow beam of light from his torch picks out a grisly sight
Stan recognised the shoe on the leg near the beans
And the cardigan on the arm by the potatoes
It was Joan's left arm
A veteran of the 'Great War' Stan weeps
Gently he leans over and kisses the hand
Tenderly the wedding band he'd placed on her finger
Twenty four years earlier is removed
Lil helps him up "C'mon, Stan."
He stands up. "Yes, let's have a nice cuppa."

漏 Christine L. Coles - July 2001

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