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  1. #1
    Bassim is offline Senior Member
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    Default VIP- part seven, Short story

    Please, would you proofread my text.

    To be able to establish the cause of the clash that broke out just before the sun sank behind the mountains we can only relay on the evidence of a single witness who had stated that he had heard two men quarrelling about the VIP's visit. According to him, two middle-aged men had completely different opinions. The first man expressed his doubts about the VIP. "He would never come to this hole," he said. "Everything is a pure lie!" The second man was so upset that he flared up and called him a defeatist and a traitor. The witness told the police that he could not see exactly who hit the first, but in the next moment two men were fighting like two rabid dogs, kicking and beating each other savagely. As the whole town was present on the square, within seconds relatives and friends of two men ran to their help. Before anyone had a chance to stop the brawl the crowd had taken sides to the argument.

    The half of them supported the first person and the other half the second.
    Two police officers who ran in the middle of the crowd to restore law and order were simply caught in its cogs and disappeared. Their bodies were never found. The brawl spread with uncontrolled speed. Soon, the supporters of the "Stars" and the "Comets" were involved in a vicious battle. They did not only use their fists and feet, but also knives and our witness told that blood ran through the street like a brook. People screamed and cried but none could help them. The two political parties did not stay neutral. Their members attacked each other with such a hatred this town had not seen since its foundation a thousand year ago. They strangled each other, jumped on the lying bodies and smashed their skulls. Even intellectuals who should listen to reason and stay calm started to beat their colleagues. A doctor smashed the head of an engineer holding it in his hair and pummelling it against the wall, a bank accountant strangled his manager with his own tie, a town's only painter jumped like madmen on a publican's stiff body in whose pub he had been a regular until today.
    The tube player used his heavy instrument to hit the trumpeter in the temple causing his immediate death, the drummer showed his hatred on the conductor's head tuning it into a strange, grey and jelly-like mass.

    Old men, who had been sitting peacefully on the banks now started hitting their peers with their sticks. Old women forgot their knittings and embroideries and using their needles gouged out each other's eyes. Soon one could hear a machine-gun fire. People were being killed by the score and nobody was spared not even babies and children. The gangs of people walked with guns in their hands and asked everyone they met if he was for or against VIP. If the person had not give them the "right" answer he was killed on the spot.

    Sons killed their own parents, sisters their own brothers, grandchildren their grandparents and nobody know what was the real reason. The grenades were thrown on the homes and soon the whole town was burning. The furniture factory was destroyed within an hour in a huge fire as well as all other buildings. Some people tried to escape with their cars but as soon as they left the centre they were stopped at the checkpoints and killed. Nobody could have escaped from a hell. When the Mayor saw what was happening he ran to his office, but before he had time to open the door a single bullet from a sniper hit his head and made the end of his dreams. His beautiful wife met the same fate. Someone strangled her with her own pearl necklace.

    The next morning a lorry thundered into the town. The driver was due to deliver some new machines to the furniture factory. When he entered the centre and saw all the bodies and destruction around him he almost crashed with his vehicle in the lamp post. Bodies lay scattered everywhere, some of them burned beyond recognition. Pools of dried blood stained the asphalt. Women, men and children lay in heaps like a rubbish that someone had dumped and ran away. The driver turned off the motor and went out.
    Silence was almost absolute. A few goats and sheep strolled soundlessly among the bodies. Suddenly, he saw a raised hand of young man. The driver hurried to him trying not to step on the bodies. There was a pool of blood under the man's body. His face was contorted with the pain. It was obvious that this was his last breaths. He beckoned the driver and when he bent his head, the dying man asked him in a weak voice, "Please, tell me if the VIP has finally come?"

    THE END

  2. #2
    Anglika is offline No Longer With Us
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    Default Re: VIP- part seven, Short story

    Quote Originally Posted by Bassim View Post
    Please, would you proofread my text.

    To be able to establish the cause of the clash that broke out just before the sun sank behind the mountains, we can only rely on the evidence of a single witness who stated/claimed that he had heard two men quarrelling about the VIP's visit. According to him, two middle-aged men had completely different opinions. The first man expressed his doubts about the VIP. "He would never come to this hole," he said. "Everything is a pure lie!" The second man was so upset that he flared up and called him a defeatist and a traitor. The witness told the police that he could not see exactly who threw the first punch/made the first move, but in the next moment the two men were fighting like two rabid dogs, kicking and beating each other savagely. As the whole town was present in the square, within seconds relatives and friends of two men ran to their help. Before anyone had a chance to stop the brawl the crowd had taken sides in the argument.

    Half of them supported the first person and the other half the second.
    Two police officers who ran into the middle of the crowd to restore law and omit order were simply caught up in the maelstrom and disappeared. Their bodies were never found. The brawl spread with uncontrolled speed. Soon, the supporters of the "Stars" and the "Comets" were involved in a vicious battle. They not only used their fists and feet, but also knives, and our witness described how blood ran through the street like a brook. People screamed and cried but no one could help them. The two political parties did not stay neutral. Their members attacked each other with such a hatred this town had not seen since its foundation a thousand year ago. They strangled each other, jumped on the fallen bodies and smashed their skulls. Even intellectuals, who should listen to reason and stay calm, started to beat their colleagues. A doctor smashed the head of an engineer, holding his hair and pummelling his skull against the wall; a bank accountant strangled his manager with his own tie; the town's only painter jumped like madmen on a publican's stiff body in whose pub he had been a regular until today; the tuba player used his heavy instrument to hit the trumpeter on the temple causing his immediate death; the drummer showed his hatred by drumming on the conductor's head, turning it into a strange grey and jelly-like mass.

    Old men, who had been sitting peacefully on the banks, now started hitting their peers with their sticks. Old women forgot their knitting and embroidery and using their needles gouged out each other's eyes. Soon one could hear a machine-gun fire. People were being killed by the score and nobody was spared, not even babies and children. Gangs of men walked through the streets with guns in their hands and asked everyone they met if he was for or against the VIP. If the person did not give the "right" answer, he was killed on the spot.

    Sons killed their own parents, sisters their own brothers, grandchildren their grandparents and nobody knows what was the real reason. The grenades were thrown into houses and soon the whole town was burning. The furniture factory was destroyed within an hour in a huge fire as well as all other buildings. Some people tried to escape with their cars but as soon as they left the centre they were stopped at the checkpoints and killed. Nobody could have escaped from such a hell.

    When the Mayor saw what was happening he ran to his office, but before he had time to open the door a single bullet from a sniper hit his head and made the end of his dreams. His beautiful wife met the same fate. Someone strangled her with her own pearl necklace.

    The next morning a lorry thundered into the town. The driver was due to deliver some new machines to the furniture factory. When he entered the centre and saw all the bodies and destruction around him he almost crashed with his vehicle into a lamp post. Bodies lay scattered everywhere, some of them burned beyond recognition. Pools of dried blood stained the asphalt. Women, men and children lay in heaps like the rubbish that someone had dumped. The driver turned off the motor and got out of the cab.

    Silence was almost absolute. A few goats and sheep strolled soundlessly among the bodies. Suddenly, he saw the raised hand of a young man. The driver hurried to him, trying not to step on the bodies. There was a pool of blood under the man's body. His face was contorted with the pain. It was obvious that this was his last breath. He beckoned the driver to lean down and when he bent his head, the dying man asked him in a weak voice, "Please, tell me if the VIP has finally come?"

    THE END
    .

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