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News (English)

News by Jens

Jack sat in front of the TV in his Belfast home. From the couch, where he rested, Jack watched the flickering screen, his feet propped on the small, round living room table. On screen the news reporter was saying,

“…and here are today’s lotto numbers: 2631738…”

Jack got up and walked into the kitchen, past the dining table and through a door. A plate with toast lay next to the fridge on the counter. Careful not to bump his head on the cupboard overhead he grabbed two slices and dropped them in the toaster, flipping the switch. Opening the cupboard, he looked for the jam. Finding the jar he opened it…it was empty.

Cursing, Jack strode back into the living room to check the TV. But the news reporter was only pointing out the weather in Ireland.

“…will be clouds coming up from the south. There will be little to no sunshine for the next few days. In Northern Ireland we also have heavy rain clouds coming in…”

Jack turned away and made his way back to the kitchen when there was noise at the front door. Jack stopped in his tracks, peering around the whitewashed corner. A key rattled in the lock. Then the oak wood swung aside on its hinges, creaking in protest.

“Oh, hello, mum”, Jack said as an elderly lady stepped over the threshold. Her whitening hair fell to her shoulders and a thick coat hung to her knees, where it was met by high boots.

Handing Jack her wet umbrella, she hung her coat in a closet and walked into the living room. As she moved, she addressed Jack.

“Jack, could you go fetch some water from the supermarket? We’ve nearly got none left.” Jack put the umbrella in a corner and followed his mother.

“Ok. And I’ll go get some jam on the way. We’ve run out of that, too.”

He quickly ran up the stairs to his small bedroom. His bed stood opposite the door and to his right Jack could see a shelf with CDs and a closet. He snatched a warm jacket from a drawer, pulled it on and hurried back downstairs. At the foot of the wooden steps he met his mother. She produced a thick leather wallet from her hand bag and procured some pound notes, handing them to Jack.

“Bye”, he said and jogged out the door.

The hallway was dark and gloomy. Dust covered nearly every available surface. Coughing, He continued down the stairs, which groaned at every step. At the bottom, Jack stepped out of the door. The freezing air out side chilled Jack to the bone, making him shiver. The fierce wind touched his skin with icy tendrils, regardless of his warm clothes.

Running to get warm, Jack proceeded in the direction of the supermarket. A light rain prattled down on the asphalt, falling down from the unchangingly grey sky. Jack frowned up at the mass of clouds with out breaking stride.

He passed the car wash, the cinema, the ice-cream store (now closed because of the season), the paper shop, the – BOOM!

Jack felt a searing hot fist punch him in the back, throwing him five yards forward. The pavement rushed towards him… He pulled his arms up in front of his face. Then came the inevitable crash. The impact made his teeth clatter; his hand had sprained when he had broken his fall. Jack opened his eyes upon a scene of destruction.

The pavement was shattered and cracked, debris littered the floor and on the side of the devastated street stood the remaining ruins of the of a store front. Flames licked at the broken material, they devoured various paper products, hissing like dying snakes as they touched the falling rain drops.

Jack only had seconds to register these observations before another thunderous explosion sent debris flying towards him. He rolled away, but a large chunk struck him on the shoulder from which emitted a ghastly crack! Pain exploded from the wound on his broken shoulder, adding its screaming to the scratches and bruises already on his body. To avoid more serious injuries, Jack rolled up into a ball and covered his head with his good arm. Small rocks followed their big brother, pelting Jack all over.

Jack looked around to see if the barrage had stopped and his eyes fell upon two burning, charred pieces of wood; the remains of a sign. There were letters engraved on them; they read: fast rap. Even as he watched the flames ate their way through the blackened wood.

The paper shop was blazing, black smoke gathering in the sky to join the rain clouds. Already Jack could hear the sirens wailing in the distance, lying there in the street, helpless and soaked. His whole body hurt. He closed his eyes with the assurance that help was on the way.

Jack’s mother was watching a TV series as the screen suddenly skipped to a different one. It was an emergency announcement. A man appeared on screen.

“Good evening, I am police officer John Hill. It is my sad duty to inform you of a tragic occurrence on Trinity Street at 6:22 half an hour ago. The Belfast Telegraph paper store was bombed and completely destroyed. The police are chasing two suspects right now and are investigating the crime scene. The fire department is struggling to contain the inferno. Anybody within the proximity of 20feet of the fire should evacuate.

“At the moment we cannot say how many died or were injured, but we believe there are terrorists on the loose so we caution everyone not to venture out of their homes…”

Jack’s mother wasn’t listening anymore, an expression of horror and worry on her face.

What happened to Jack? she thought.

Diese Angaben sind wie immer ohne gewähr aber mit Pistole!!


2 Antworten to “News (English)”

  1. Wow ,
    jens you were bussy!!

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