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New Stage
חיפוש בבמה

שם משתמש או מספר
סיסמתך
[ אני רוצה משתמש! ]
[ איבדתי סיסמה ): ]


מדורי במה







אונו מומנטו
/ The Factory City

Morning again
The sun creeps from above the hills in slow motion, like an
iron being heated up
The darkness fades into a purple vague, revealing the
deserted buildings, decaying and crumbling and full of
bullet holes, people are starting waking up, although it's
been years since they were last greeted by singing birds in
the process.
The gray skies, perpetually dull and bleak hovers over the
city.
Some people were here yesterday, orphanned teenagers with an
empty stomach, I wonder who got raped and killed this time,
the screams were more abundant than usual but no one bothers
to see what's happening, it's a daily occurance that goes
unchecked, or simply ignored, there's no law in this place.
The huge concrete mass, altrnately called ''home'', stands
on a hill on the outskirts of the city, it was built some 20
years ago to house to factory workers and their families, so
that while the men work all day and all night, the women
work in the farms, and the childen stay in the kindergarten
for the most of the day.
Though that place no longer stands, now the children run
freely through the ruins, occasionaly stepping unto mines
and getting in range of the snipers.
The factory still works, as it always did, it's the only
thing keeping this city alive, but the women don't dare go
to the farms these days, almost no one returns from that
part of the city in one piece, they stay in the concrete
blocks, locked away in the hidious ivory towers hoping to
make it through the day.
At the factory it's work 24 hours a day, producing what
little ammunition the medium-sized factory can produce, it
used to produce medicins and surgery tools, but the demand
for these are null, no one cares for people who need
surgery, and certainly no one cares for medicins.
I dare not open the window to look at the dawn, last time I
did that I almost got shot, they wait for exactly that, you
can't see them when the sun is behind them but they have a
clear picture of you, especially since from their view they
can spot without trouble when a window is opened, as the
windows reflect the sunlight.
I get dressed in hurry as the clock shows nearly 7 am, the
usual blue corporate uniform that disgust my very soul, the
same ones that my co-workers wear, at first it was
enjoyable, good people from all over the country, a lot of
interaction going on, many people working for a good
pay-check in good mood.
But now there are very few left compared to then, and
everyday that passes there are even less, we've known each
other for years, sitting together at break time in the
cafeteria, chatting, bragging, learning the lives of each
other, later we cried for the loss of lives we know, now we
just ignore it, ignore it like we always did, we don't
interact any more either, the only sound in the factory is
the machines, and gunfire outside, shattering us from inside
with each burst.
I go to sleep at nights, cuddled together with my wife, my
last remaining child, under a thin blanket in the freezing
cold, sobbing quietly so they won't hear, so they won't
suspect that I am broken, aswell.







loading...
חוות דעת על היצירה באופן פומבי ויתכן שגם ישירות ליוצר

לשלוח את היצירה למישהו להדפיס את היצירה
היצירה לעיל הנה בדיונית וכל קשר בינה ובין
המציאות הנו מקרי בהחלט. אין צוות האתר ו/או
הנהלת האתר אחראים לנזק, אבדן, אי נוחות, עגמת
נפש וכיו''ב תוצאות, ישירות או עקיפות, שייגרמו
לך או לכל צד שלישי בשל מסרים שיפורסמו
ביצירות, שהנם באחריות היוצר בלבד.
איך נראה
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תרומה לבמה




בבמה מאז 15/5/07 1:01
האתר מכיל תכנים שיתכנו כבלתי הולמים או בלתי חינוכיים לאנשים מסויימים.
אין הנהלת האתר אחראית לכל נזק העלול להגרם כתוצאה מחשיפה לתכנים אלו.
אחריות זו מוטלת על יוצרי התכנים. הגיל המומלץ לגלישה באתר הינו מעל ל-18.
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