The small boy stumbled out into the street. She gasped, seeing it. He shouldn't ought to be here. All the children had been taken away to the countryside weeks ago, when they realized the war would stretch as far as this. He should have been safe. Had some loving parent not been able to bear being separated from their child? Had a neglectful relative not even realized the boy should be taken to safety? Just around the corner, she could hear the cold, metallic tromping of the mechanical army approaching. She felt herself full to overflowing with the bubbling essence that she would pour out in one great wave to destroy the army. Which was good. And herself. Which she had become resigned to. And the little boy. Which was unacceptable.
Inspiration: This poster from the vintage ads LJ community.
http://vintage-ads.livejournal.com/3176648.htmlStory Potential: Low.
Notes: Eh. Also, geez, can you tell I'm a new mother much?