Madam Puss in Boots
Humidity lurked in the air as steam rose from the sewers and swirled with the night’s wind into the pitch black sky. The city had not changed since the time of the Third War. The streets were still dusted from the bomb’s lethal smoke and the buildings still lied in ruins. Survivors left the city in hopes of finding a new home, but sadly found the same destruction. As anarchy spread across the wrecked nation and the government collapsed, the military took over. Five leading officers became Lords of the country and called for a new order. The new order was simply one’s imagination. Germany was never restored to its glorious state.
Stench of the rotting corpses lingered in and out of the diminishing brick buildings and filled the nostrils of Lord Marquise. The aging man of six feet seven inches was totaling the day’s death count. It was true that the Lord could have his soldiers do such a task, but as a man of religion he felt a sense of righteousness. He did not fear attacks on his own life as he was a symbol of hope.
That's as far as I got before I decided to stop writing...
