There was a roar of jets overhead, and then the sounds of explosions in the distance. It was a momentary punctuation to the near-constant chatter of small arms fire, ongoing since late Sunday.
“Hey, kids, look at the planes? See? Jet fighters!”
They were silent, having already seen too much to be distracted into adventure.
“They should be strapped in…”
“If we have to ditch the car, I want to be able to go fast.” The line of traffic ahead of them was slow, but moving. One of the kids managed to wave to a soldier sitting on a tank.
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