Three line tales #93.The wait

Here I am, standing on the dark, shining, rain-soaked shingle, looking out over the breaking surf to the cold, grey Channel.

The same sea, from the same beach where my grandfather and his comrades stood on that fateful day almost one hundred years ago, the remnants of the invincible but sadly ill-equipped, hastily assembled invasion force, our country’s answer to the threat of World domination by all conquering, arrogant, brown shirted, goose stepping, fascist troops.

Waiting, scanning the horizon, a very hell behind them as they waited to see if  they would ever be saved from the advancing Nazi onslaught.


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Filed under Flash fiction, Inspired emotion, Self compositions

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