"UN Delegation" (Microfiction)

A.I. Generated Image

The ceasefire had just taken effect. We began emerging from the underground shelters, a few at a time.

The ragged old man was waiting, as if he’d expected us. His face was hidden behind a grimy keffiyeh. He reached out a withered hand and took our interpreter by the arm. 

"He wants us to follow," she said. "To the courtyard where the children play."

He led, and we followed with difficulty through the rubble. Where busy streets had once hummed with life, bomb craters now gaped across the shattered asphalt like back doors to Hell.

At last, we reached a clearing. It looked like it might have been a football pitch once. There were dozens of mass graves. No one could say for certain how many boys and girls had taken part in that kickabout…

(Extended here)

 (Originally written in Greek)