Dawn is starting to break. We are free to get up. It seems that, in spite of everything, the collective bodies of humans piled next to each other have found a way to fall asleep. Though, some remember waiting through to the "all-clear" sirens.
Men begin to approach the broken side of the tunnel to sort through the bodies that are incinerated and/or injured. There are occasional children crying that managed to run too far away from their parents, only to find them dead on return. There are also couples separated that are devastated when they find out the truth of their lost partner. It's too much to watch. I start to cry and once I do, I can't stop. I'm gutted with heart-wrenching sobs.
One of the ladies helps me and other shell-shocked survivors up and out. Luckily, there are other citizens here volunteering to help, as well as the police.
There is little, if any, left of Camden now nor the apartment I kept. Civilians walk around the rubble like me, looking for anything of our own or others to scrap. The local post box remains however, and a letter for me.
Dear Cecile
We are sorry for what has occurred in London last night, and we can't stand you staying there any longer. Here are tickets - we believe the trains will be moving more people out. We insist that you come back and stay with us. Edward is not here, but at our first word, he'll come visit you.
Elizabeth
It's nice of her to think of me. How can I refuse?
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A Time for Love
Ciencia FicciónAnnie, a 21 year old singer stuck in unrequited love, is on her way to her grandmother's when a storm appears, swirling overhead. She enters the room to find a radio playing noise back from 1940 about the war. Touching it, she's transported back in...
