The old man

The capitol grew rank in the summer heat, the humid streets clogged with sweating tourists and rats.

They were all trapped in the same hole, after the announcement of sensitive political changes. Rescue teams were awaited to carry the tourists back home. Further entry of tourists was blocked, and airlines were instructed to refund full amounts.

The old man forlornly looked out of the window, locked at home in the curfew. They had not received supplies of milk or bread for the last three days, and the future was uncertain. Television channels and internet connectivity was cut off. They had no way of knowing what was happening and how long will it last.

Soldiers dotted the streets, their deadpan faces conveying no expression. He wondered if they too were thinking of their loved ones back home, and were equally baffled by the uncertainty. Did they feel as claustrophobic as he did?

All that they could do was hope that tomorrow  is better than the lifetime of conflict he had seen. Being ruled by a benevolent dictator would be better than the atrocities they faced from scattered, unnamed, masked devils, day in and day out.

He was willing to lend a hand to restore peace. He wished somebody had asked him what he wants – Peace and constructive employment for his sons, nothing else…

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