[ FF ] 5 minute speedwrite : In a war-torn city , a teen who is hiding in the rubble is confronted by a soldier , enemy or friend , you chose , and then the bombs start to drop again

Start 9:55 
 
 Ptusha leans on the blackened skeleton of the doorway to his house. It is raining and the wetness drowns out the smoke pilfering the bombed-out town that had been his childhood home. Hours earlier, Ptusha had a home and a family. A large, three-room apartment on the second floor. His grandparents and mother lay somewhere underneath the rubble. His eyes are fixed on the sodden papers floating in puddles out front the apartment, between chunks of concrete, wood splinters, and ash-covered clothes. The writing is smeared, illegible, yet Ptusha is transfixed. Nearby, rain dribbles on scrap metal previously used as roofing. 
 
 “ Hold still, ” a soldier shouts in the distance. Ptusha looks down the wide alleyway that makes up most of the town. Houses on the left, businesses on the right as it always was, from the towns beginning. Ptusha is at the far end of the main road where soldiers are most likely to enter. The alleyway looks paved with building rubble. One of the houses looks like its being held up by the clothesline stringing the gap to the business side. Funny thing, the a shirt still hangs there, bright yellow and blue flapping away gusts of smoke. 
 
 A Northy, by the looks of it, Ptusha thought. The world had gone to hell in the last year. Countries of northern Asia formed an allegiance against the United Nations, nukes were launched, and the third world war began. A pointless war. The soldier grips his Ak47 by the barrel and holds it high at eyelevel but not looking down his site. The gun is aimed at Ptusha. He stands there a moment, dripping at the nose, breathing quietly, inspecting Ptusha ’ s thin, teenage frame. – -- 
 
 End 10:01 
 
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