19 December 2012
The oil refinery was deserted. They stood on the tarmac, two shadows in the carnage, staring at the horizon, ears pricked and muscles tense, like wild rabbits in the headlights, ready to jump at the first sound. Behind them enormous metal cylinder of the reservoir smoldered. It was crumpled like a colossal can of coke stomped on by a foot of a giant. Its black smoke lined the underbelly of already dark clouds, turning grey afternoon into night. Rumbling could be heard in the distance, but they couldn't discern if that was a thunder or a cannon.
Robert moved first, bringing the camera to his eye and snapping a quick picture of the smoking reservoir over Sal's head. Just then an explosion shook the ground making them both jump.
"Shit," Robert dropped to his knees. His friend looked at him in alarm.
"What..." - a loud crack of a thunder swallowed Sal's question. The patter of raindrops started dotting the tarmac.
"Oh shitshitshitshitshiiiiiiiit..." whined the Robert, moving on all four and patting the pavement around him. It was getting increasingly pockmarked by rain.
Sal stepped forward: "What's going..."
"Don't move!" screamed Robert. "Don't you fuckin' make another step!"
Sal froze mid-stride, bewildered. Seconds passed, turning into minutes. Suddenly, Robert picked something from the tarmac and popped it into his mouth.
"Thank god," he whispered.
"You gotta be fuckin' kidding me," Sal shook his head.
Robert smiled weakly. He took the thing from his mouth, stretched his eyelids and put it into the eye with a tip of a finger.
"You managed to drop your contact here, of all places?" Sal was incredulous. Robert stood up grinning.
"Yeah, poked it out of my eye with the camera. I thought I'll never find it. Raindrops on the pavement look like hundreds of tiny contact lenses."
They moved quickly, one muttering under breath the other chuckling, and snapped pictures of burning installation, twisted metal and crumbled concrete, until the explosions became louder than thunder. Then they ran to the car and flew through the mangled metal gate toward the town.
*** ©2012 Marino Bosco. All rights reserved.
Refinery (a war vignette) • Opuss № I