The Cloud Above London

The thick smoke hung in the air. The last licks of flames chased after each other. The fire department hung in a batch as a few tried to extinguish the last fires. Littering the city were scars. What was factories and homes was now piled of ash and wood. Families hugged each other as they mourned the lost ones, and their homes. A young mother clutched an empty pile of rags as she hugged three children to her side. Tears streamed down her face. As she looked up, all she saw was a cloud. A dark cloud, that stunk with the stench of death. She set the rags on a pile of ash and bones with scraps of clothing. The bones were tiny. Fifteen other people were ash and bones around the city, and thousands of homes were ash. On the bright side, the next fire stopped at the edge of the city. The young mother saw it too. She clutched her new bundle of rags close, this time with a baby inside. The losses made the city safe. That was the last smoke cloud above London.