Life is miserable and meaningless John thought standing against one of the rotting pillars of an old bridge that was still in use about a month ago; a month ago when he was still a citizen of a civilized nation. He inhaled another cancerous puff of nicotine filled smoke from his stick, held it away from his face and muttered, “sooner or later, we’re all gonna die anyway…might as well die happy, won’t you say?” His cigarette answered in the affirmative by glowing a little as a result of the gust of wind that swept by bringing with it the sweet smell of meat burning. He dropped his cigarette on the floor after enjoying its company a bit more and then put it out with his worn out boots. He had been on the run for over a month now since the armies of darkness swept through his country raping, pillaging and murdering anyone and everyone who didn’t agree with them. He looked at the ring on the ring finger of his left hand and remembered how he had just stood watching from afar, making sure he wasn’t seen, as the soldiers of that foreign army dragged his wife out of their home, ripped her clothes off, raped her mercilessly and then sprayed her body with bullets after they were done with her. She had made the mistake of not submitting like so many others before when the war had started. She was a strong woman who believed in her country and her values. She had paid for them with her dignity and her life. Tears began rolling down his eyes as he remembered he had his hand on the butt of his revolver that was tucked safely in his belt. He never believed in violence but had bought the gun after it had become clear that they couldn’t count on anyone to protect them; that they were now at the mercy of those foreigners who didn’t believe in mercy. Seeing his wife raped and killed by over a dozen or more of these foreigners amidst laughter and jubilation, he had only thought about how logically it would be for him to start shooting. One against many. He stood no chance. He made a conscious decision to just up and run. There was nothing he could have done for his wife, she was treated like an animal and now was dead like one; her corpse left to rot on the street where they had taken many romantic walks hand in hand. His train of thoughts came to a halt when he heard a burst of gunfire somewhere far away followed by cries of pain, followed by some more gunfire, followed by a lot of laughter and cries of “Allah-hu-akbar”.