Not from the sky
The wreckage was absolute. Couldn’t discern the cause only
the carnage. The organs were lying exposed to the air. Their meaty texture wasn’t
like in the movies. More of a matte complexion rather than glossy from blood.
This didn’t just happen. The blood looked black. Everywhere. Like oil slicked
over the concrete and coloring the rocks stuck in time. Tried not to step in it
as I moved for a closer look. Obviously nothing could be done but morbid
curiosity led the way. The hand was crushed and I flexed mine to
convince the brain that it wasn't my hand lying there shattered. One of my worst
nightmares. Hands. And hearts. As if thinking that word it comes into view.
Still in the chest cavity but silent. Exposed. Knees pop as I crouch down. Eyes
scan the horizon but it's empty. Shouldn’t it smell? I heard it’s
supposed to smell like pennies. That’s when my eyes fell onto mirrors painted
blue.