Tag Archive | War

The Carpet Bomb – Friday Fiction in Five Sentences

Image result for images of bombed aleppo

A heavy and wretched cloak of sorrow hung over her, her incoherent mumbles and vacant eyes’ belie the once happy soul that lay within; many believe that she has lost her mind.

For her deeply lined face shows a map of the harsh hand life dealt her and her dejected haunting look, too uncomfortable to look at.

What they forgot was the loss of three healthy sons and her husband to a bomb in the market square.

What they didn’t know was how deeply she loved them and the excruciating pain of missing them.

What they failed to understand was that life’s pleasure was lost to her and each day, she trudged through the rubble praying for another explosion to take away her pain.

© Jacqueline Oby-Ikocha


out-of-the-silent-breath 2

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Enslaved – Friday Fiction in Five Sentences.

She lay still on the mat, her body curled in a fetal position as she listened to his grunts and snoring whilst he slept in replete satisfaction.

Reeba heard every minutiae sound that echoed in the night camp as she suffered through another sleepless night of so many terrifying nights; daylight could never come fast enough.

A deep chasm of hopelessness dug a bottomless pit inside her, alongside her perpetual hunger for food.

For how long? For how long would she have to live? Will she get out of this alive? Sometimes death seemed a preferable option.

She wondered what became of her family; did they survive the attack or were they captured and enslaved as well?

© Jacqueline Oby-Ikocha


Below is my first just published Poetry Book “Out of the silent breath” which is available on Amazon and Smashwords.

When you buy my book, you support me in an invaluable manner.

 

Wonderful, evocative poetry by a talented writer. Left me hungry for more. Jacqueline can write! Linda Bethea

Out of the silent breath

If you enjoy my works and would like to do so, you can fuel my creativity with a slice of cake or coffee😉

A Brave Soul…

Camouflage Soldier“Camouflage is a game we all like to play, but our secrets are as surely revealed by what we want to seem to be as by what we conceal.” — Russell Lynes

”I am totally preening with pride.” No, it’s not a camouflage.” ”I am preening because today’s prompt for Writing 101 was humbly offered by me and accepted by Ben Huberman.”

”So I crave your indulgence while I inundate you with poetry 🙂

Crouched in the thick bushes,
Fatigue camouflaged and blended with the brushes.
Inhale, Exhale,
Inhale, Exhale,
His fingers placed on the trigger,
Steady, like that of a true sniper.
Yet his heartbeats are so loud in his ears,
They were erratic from his present fears.
Sweat dripped and glazed his eyes,
Mingled with tears of his silent goodbyes.
As his days flashed by so fast,
When the heat missile blasted past.
Beneath his camouflage of bravery,
Lay a young soul torn to shreds.
As he was laid down to rest,
On his marble stone engraved with crest,
”Here lies a brave soul at rest.”

© Jacqueline Oby-Ikocha

It’s time for a little game of poetic hide-and-seek with Day 9’s prompt, Camouflage, by the prolific @jacquelineobyikocha.

This Manner of Madness…

HumanityNo I am not a masochist. I don’t derive gratification from self inflicted pain, it is simply the desire to watch what goes on in an ever changing World of today, hence my torturing myself with today’s news.

Today is 81115 and my eyes are pulled to the television. I gravitate to the headline news, since I don’t have all the time to sit before the TV for endless hours, I pick and choose my moments.

Watching the memorial service for the 224 unfortunate lost souls on Metro-jet from Sharm el sheikh to Russia has been a sobering and solemn experience.

I don’t know anybody among them and I don’t have to know anyone of them to imagine the pain of the families affected.

These were ordinary humans like you and I, blown to smithereens. Little children, wives, husbands, sons, daughters, relatives, friends, sweethearts, colleagues…..HUMANS!

I watched the stricken faces of the Russian citizens, the bell tolled 224 times for these possible victims of a dastardly act of fanaticism.

Terrorists have staked claim of responsibility for planting the bomb that blew the plane apart.

Who can explain this despicable beast of destruction that has given rise to so much inhumanity?

Who can explain why the heart of some humans are desperately wicked?

Who can explain the senseless violence and killing which seems to dot every perimeter of today’s horizon.

Who can explain the raging wars that tears Nations apart, decimating and displacing its citizenry?

Who can explain these virulent dogmas of hatred sown in the name of convoluted religions?

Is there an answer anyone?

No? Yes? SILENCE.

If it is true that it was an undetected bomb, then this is the new ugly face of travel, which would really be a dilemma and game changer.

“The days are indeed numbered.” ”Each day a precious taste of sweet nectar.”

© Jacqueline Oby-Ikocha

The Daily Post Your Days Are Numbered.

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