Survivors

I wrapped myself around the bar, testing its strength briskly. I had
only seconds, not long enough to weigh up the odds of one place over
another. It was an old shop or warehouse, doors swinging open in the
ever-intensifying wind.

The blue afternoon sky was ominously dark now. The ground began to
groan, stretch and snap. All around me were slow-motion horror movie
scenes - the sounds of panic deafening me, my helplessness humbling me
in my guilt, as the screaming ripped away the linings of my
heart.

A thundering roar as it moved towards us, so slow as to make me
nauseous with fear, so fast as to destroy us in seconds. The
ever-blackening swirling mass was upon us and the screeches of mankind
meets the unnatural echoed in my head long after it was all over.

All I recall clearly is the close, loud splashing, crashing noise too
near me and the sharpness of the glass splinters, as they embedded
themselves deep in my face. But it was the noise first of all, the pain
came later.

I don't know how long it was until I regained consciousness, but the
sky was still black. Again, my ears were the first to register - the
screams much fainter now, instead the moans of agony and wails of
disbelieving grief. But, somehow, amongst these intrusive sounds, was
an eerie silence. Illogical, but real enough. The shush of the sand on
a windy beach perhaps. It seemed evil and omnipotent.

I looked upon a scene of devastation, that I care not to repeat or
relive. The faces of the survivors all seemed the same, like those of
refugees fleeing some needless conflict. Eyes that had seen sights
no-one should witness, mouths twisted into agonised denials of reality,
faces grimy with dirt, tears and blood.

I could not see my children. All the people looked identical, I could
not separate the endless stream of them, even when some began moving
and blurred my vision still further.

I sat then, feeling the pain float into my consciousness, until I
touched the right side of my face and found fragments of the window
buried in my skin. I distractedly began picking them out, one by one,
placing them into the palm of my left hand, until the repeated action
became almost reassuring.

I sat now, searching for somewhere to dispose of the pieces of glass.
How strange, to worry myself over this tiny detail, amongst such
carnage ! As I looked, I suddenly met a man's eyes. I did not know him,
but exchanging such a human gesture seemed to help me recover my
ability to move again and I walked towards him.

He was cradling a little girl, a child I had never seen before, but not
dissimilar to one of my own. He was holding her in a way that appeared
awkward, - this was not a father cuddling his daughter, but an old man
trying his hardest to protect a girl from more misery than she had
already endured.

He stretched out his hands towards me, beseeching me to take her. I
picked her up and carried her towards one of the buildings that had
remained structurally intact. Once inside, I sat down heavily on some
soft furnishings, unrecognisable beyond that. I brushed the dirt off
her face and she looked directly into my eyes and smiled.