[Original: Drabble] "Underground" [G]
Title: Underground
Prompt: writerverse challenge #06 weekly quick fic #3, prompts ‘London’ & ‘bomb shelter’
Bonus: no names
Word Count: 202
Rating: G
Original/Fandom: original (historical fiction, WWII)
Summary: A girl waits out the air raid with her little brother.
Note(s): originally posted to the writerverse wv_library
Underground
Her voice had gone hoarse about an hour ago, but she continued on humming, cradling her little brother against her chest so he would hear the vibrations of her vocal chords and not the distant boom of falling shells.
The Underground station was dimly lit, packed with people that she could only barely see, and she concentrated on the song. Their father had sung it to them, when she was smaller and her brother only a baby - before the war, before he’d been drafted into the army and they’d been sent to live with their great uncle.
Great-Uncle was sitting beside them, snoring softly. He had been good to them, since they’d come to his house, but he was old and he had trouble relating to scared children living through a war. She often found that she took care of him as much as he was taking care of them.
Another bomb sounded above them, closer than the ones before, and she hummed louder, trying to drown it out. Her brother made a snuffling sound in his sleep, but didn’t wake, and she kept on humming until the first rays of golden sunlight began creeping down the stairs from the street above.
THE END
Current Mood:
blah
Prompt: writerverse challenge #06 weekly quick fic #3, prompts ‘London’ & ‘bomb shelter’
Bonus: no names
Word Count: 202
Rating: G
Original/Fandom: original (historical fiction, WWII)
Summary: A girl waits out the air raid with her little brother.
Note(s): originally posted to the writerverse wv_library
Underground
Her voice had gone hoarse about an hour ago, but she continued on humming, cradling her little brother against her chest so he would hear the vibrations of her vocal chords and not the distant boom of falling shells.
The Underground station was dimly lit, packed with people that she could only barely see, and she concentrated on the song. Their father had sung it to them, when she was smaller and her brother only a baby - before the war, before he’d been drafted into the army and they’d been sent to live with their great uncle.
Great-Uncle was sitting beside them, snoring softly. He had been good to them, since they’d come to his house, but he was old and he had trouble relating to scared children living through a war. She often found that she took care of him as much as he was taking care of them.
Another bomb sounded above them, closer than the ones before, and she hummed louder, trying to drown it out. Her brother made a snuffling sound in his sleep, but didn’t wake, and she kept on humming until the first rays of golden sunlight began creeping down the stairs from the street above.
THE END
Current Mood:
blah