By Miles Rost
copyright-managua-gunn
Memories
I remember the day very well.
I was standing at my post, looking out at the rest of the city. It was a warm day, and I sometimes cursed the fact I had to wear such an unappealing uniform on such days.
It was the day when I could do nothing. I stood as a young man drove across the bridge I was facing, and ran over a child.
I wanted to help, I pleaded in my head to help. But I was sworn to a duty to protect this place.
That was the first day when I started to hate my job.
Music and Fiction 
Yikes. Now that’s a dedicated young man (woman– whatever the case may be.)!!
Mike, that would be a difficult choice, especially in a time when terrorism and its misdirection could be a factor. You chose to highlight an interesting conundrum.
janet
Whew! Been there, done that. Not that serious, but that helpless feeling sure gets us all. Nice work! Excellent!!!
no kidding / so difficult to stand by and do nothing
A brilliant take on the prompt… yes you would feel utterly powerless if something really happened.
Dear Miles,
One never knows what’s going through one of those guards’ heads, do they. Nice one, but sad.
shalom,
Rochelle
Oh my….
Yes, I can go dark with my writings. 😀
Indeed.
That’s a difficult one. Well captured.
Hmm, that would be a bit of a dilemma; whether to stand guard or go help. I wonder what the protocol is for guards in that situation?
By the way, welcome to the Fictioneers! Good to see you here. 🙂