The Flute

On a Monday in an unknown month at an unknown year, the leaders of the free world had decided to start a war against each other. It had only lasted a couple of days, in which nuclear missiles were dropping from the sky like rain in November.

Everything had happened so suddenly and life on earth had ceased so abruptly.

Few were the survivors. Trying desperately to find food, but most of the world's food supply had been nullified by the fire and the acidic rain that followed. Humanity was nonexistent and the only rule was to survive. The hunger had made the survivors deranged and they started eating each other.

What was left from the world was in complete silence which was dotted by sporadic screams.

One day the silence had been cut with a magical sound. Charm and beauty had been long gone but this sound was both beautiful and charming. In the midst of horror a small child was standing, holding a piece of hollow wood, which was carved by a rusted metal, and whistling wonderful melodies through it.

Among the living dead there was a young boy playing music of hope and dreams on the flute.


--Time's up--