Life in the valley.
by Stephen R Drage.
For generations, the people of the forest had huddled around the flickering fireside telling stories and singing songs about their life of abundance in the valley. How the land’s temperate fertility had sheltered and nurtured the scattered tribes that made their homes along the banks of the river. How children played timelessly in the lush glades while the women gathered fruits and the men ventured forth with spears and nets in search of food.
But there would be no camp fires tonight.
Tonight, the few scattered plumes of gray smoke, rose from the ashes of a destroyed community. The peaceful inhabitants had been slaughtered without mercy or emotion, their history and traditions ended abruptly by a swift and ruthless invasion.
In the lengthening shadows of dusk, General Henderson, carrying a worn 40MW plasma rifle, picked his way through the smoldering human remains.