I was in Hawaii with Jenn, visiting my parents at their place in a high-rise apartment building. We were at the monorail station when we noticed a plane flying awkwardly over the airport. Everyone around us was transfixed on this erratically flying plane. It soon made a nose dive for the airport and erupted in a huge fireball on the runway. We saw a few more planes in the air following it with a familiar insignia on their wings: Nazis.
We quickly rushed into my parents' apartment where my dad presented me with a collection of old currency worth hundreds of thousands of dollars. He wanted Jenn and I to have it. We left the apartment, got in their boat, and headed to the north side of the island.
The north was calm, peaceful, and without knowledge of the recent attack. We enjoyed for a moment what we knew was a peace we would never experience again. I said goodbye to my family, got off the boat, and headed toward the south side of the island, to engage the aggressor who dared invade our home.
No comments:
Post a Comment