L.R.A.

Here is an extract from the beginning of my new short story...

It had started again. Fighting was breaking out across the north and it was only a matter of time before it would spread south, rapidly flooding the communities and tribes that lay helpless in front of it. The rivers of blood would swell in the streets and force their way through family doors already splintered by poor craftsmanship and zero maintenance. Violence was set to surround anyone who could not afford to rise above it, and overwhelm the lives of the children caught without mercy in the crossfire. With no reason or sanity, the most vulnerable on earth were about to be subjected to horrors that would bring the best of us to our knees. From children, something else would be created. Something devastating. From children, great tragedy was moulded.

The news was everywhere and left a dark fear resting inside the adults all around Moses. That fear eluded him, blissful ignorance taking its place as parents and teachers paraded a different world in front of his eyes, aware that such a performance was coming to an end. As the days went on though, he could not be blind to the absences that grew in school as teachers and students withdrew to spend time with their families. They were preparing for the inevitable clashes that would engulf the village, desperate to enjoy what fleeting time they might have remaining and make whatever plans they could to try and avoid the destruction that lurked on the horizon. He remained clueless and confused, watching his friends disappear behind their locked doors and classes grind to a halt as one by one, the locals abandoned everyday life to hide in terror, resigning themselves to simply waiting and hoping.