Nothing to Glorify

to remember

 

He opened one side of the large double entrance doors and welcomed me in.

They were heavy, carved wooden doors with leaded glass panels all done in the gothic style.

Quite imposing, almost like the entrance to a cathedral.

But this was an old inn styled, restaurant.

He kept his hand on the dark, embossed metal handle with the slot for the large skeleton key below.

He was smiling and leaning in a conspiratorial manner, as he pointed to the back room of the inn.

There was a faint scent of gun powder on his uniform.

He had a beret, tucked under a shoulder strap on his dark green jacket.

For a moment, I thought it odd he would be in a military uniform.

And he wore heavy military boots, brightly shone.

Quite odd!

Following his direction, I saw my friends silhouetted against a leaded glass picture window.

The sun was shining through, onto the heavy wooden, medieval styled table where they were seated.

They sat up, smiled and waved at me.

The sun reflected off the dining silver and china, and lit the millions of tiny particles in the air, lazing between us.

The sun caught and sparkled a bracelet, during a wave!

It was perfectly warm and inviting.

Such special ambiance in a wonderful, old, mood enhancing inn!

I turned to thank him, but was rewarded with only a brief glance!

As though a mischievous puff of wind had caught and extinguished a candles fragile flame, he vanished in front of my eyes!

Just the slightest scent of gunpowder remained.

Stunned, I turned back to my waving friends!

They were all framed, like a memory, all the individual faces that were so familiar, like a long lost memory.

As I looked, they faded and vanished.

I stood in shock!

When I looked around, I was alone!

There was no Inn!

There was no sun!

A huge jagged, water filled crater replaced all, and beyond, nothing!

I stood in filthy cold muck, at the center of utter devastation!

Shattered timber, mounds and craters, broken vehicles, dead horses, gore, wild snakes of barbed wire, shredded uniforms, broken gas masks, sticks of barren trees, bits of body parts, blood and mud, muck and  guck, filth and foul stench, stretched endlessly on, ominous and dark.

Black smoke drifted over all.

I heard not a sound!

Nothing moved!

Except for,

Rats.

 

 

Author's Note

nothing compared to the real thing

Reviews

[Samuel Dickens]

How appropriate this is on the 100th anniversary of WWI's end. It seems that such horror and loss would teach mind kind a lesson, that he'd never go to war again, but it was for naught, of course. Some of us are just evil, I think.

[john l smith]

Morning Samuel
It is a blessing that there are so many good people out there as an effective (?) balance
Dave

[Chris Shaw]

What a bloomin good write this is Dave, and most appropriate is the timing. I liked the twist at the end where you found yourself in the God awful conditions of the first world war with vivid images of everything, including the stench and yet no sound or movement. Well done

Chris

[john l smith]

Many thanks again Chris
I tried to portray the absolute misery that takes place in every war, to soldier and citizen alike.
Not pretty!
Dave