How about a completely unrelated story?
Roast Beef, by me
London, England, 1942 "Damn these eggs, damn all the eggs that ever was!!!" Nigel yelled at the top of his lungs. Despite all his desperate searching, he could not find a single egg to prepare for his breakfast. "WERE, darling, all the eggs that ever were. One would think as an English teacher one would know proper grammar." his wife Sarah quipped from the kitchen without looking up, preparing tea for their breakfast. Despite her husband’s outburst she remained relatively calm, quite used to his rants after 8 years of marriage. "Poor grammar or not, we're out of eggs, and I have no idea what I'm to have for breakfast!" Nigel shot back, pacing around the table, obviously flustered with her comment. Fumbling around the cupboard for some sugar, Sarah replied without skipping a beat. "Well dear, why don't you take a trip down to Basil's market and pick up some more? Besides, I'm sure there's something nice you'd like for dinner tonight." Nigel stopped his pacing and perked up. "You're right darling! I have had my eye out for a good Roast Beef lately. That settles it, I'm off!" He skipped over to his wife and kissed her on the cheek. "Anything for Jr.?" he asked. "He should be fine," she replied. "I’m warming up some milk for when he wakes." Nigel smiled, proud of his beautiful wife and handsome boy. He made his way to the front door and opened it, preparing to leave. Barely a foot out the door, he turned back and grabbed the umbrella from the corner. I heard rumors of a possible storm today, he thought to himself. Better to be safe than sorry. And he was off.
"...And your total is 15 pounds, chap." Basil the grocer said as he packed Nigel’s produce. "I say, you seem particularly excited about that roast beef!" The two men chuckled; Nigel paid the man and was preparing to make his way out the door, when the grocer spoke up again. "By the way Nigel, the radio reports mentioned a possible storm coming from the East this afternoon. Better rush you and that beef home if you don't want to get caught in the rain." Nigel nodded in agreement, thanked his old friend for the advice, and took off back towards home.
Home was about 15 minutes from Basil's market. Nigel fumbled with his groceries and umbrella has he crossed through Trafalgar Square. The skies looked clear, so he decided he'd take the scenic route. "Such a beautiful day," he mused out loud; though to nobody in particular- it seemed only the pigeons were still about, save for a few people scurrying here and there. They must be trying to avoid the rain before it comes down, he thought. No matter, home isn't so far. No sooner had he completed this thought did he hear it. At first he thought it was the flutter of a million wings as the pigeons across the way flew off. But when the birds were gone and the low rumble persisted, he began to sweat and picked up his pace considerably. It was too late though. Nigel looked up at the skies. Facing east, he saw the clouds. The German air force, the Luftwaffe, had arrived, blackened clouds of bombers and fighters, in seemingly endless droves. They brought with them blitzkrieg, lightning war, and a terrible payload of bombs and shrapnel to rain upon the streets of London. Nigel, umbrella under arm, pressed his package to his chest and ran for his life towards home. There was no drizzle; the storm came down in full force all around him. Rooftops collapsed, streets were uprooted, and a terrible mixture of shrapnel and mortar showered just at his heels. He pressed on, determined to make it home. He failed to notice the bicycle in his path. The groceries scattered across the pavement, as Nigel tried to gather himself and his senses. Broken eggs lay strewn about; only the roast beef remained intact. He scrambled to his feet, grabbed his umbrella, and took off once more, scooping up the roast beef as he ran past it. It seemed to be raining even harder now, and Nigel ran just as hard to accommodate. A sudden explosion in his path caught him off guard as a torrent of fire, ash, and debris came towards him. With little time to react, he dropped to his knees and opened the umbrella with all of his might to shield him from the rain. It was a good call. The umbrella deflected the debris, but at an unfortunate cost, as it was devoured by the flame and cinder. Nigel dropped the skeletal remains and shot back to his feet, continuing his mad dash towards home. God, let my family be all right! He silently pleaded, frantic to get home to Sarah and their son.
As he neared his part of town, the rain had slowed, and seemingly stopped. His neighborhood was unscathed it seemed, so he slowed his pace in order to catch is breath. Still, his thoughts were on his family, and though walked, he did so with a sense of urgency and purpose. He wanted to take them someplace away from this squall of blitzkrieg. "Here comes my street." he said aloud, not caring that nobody was listening. Nobody would hear his screams either, as he rounded the corner to find his home ablaze and in ruins, his wife and son nowhere to be found.
There was no time to sit and be somber, however. The rain had begun again, the clouds coming around for a second run. Nigel prayed to God that he would find his family safe in one of the bunkers, that Sarah had retreated herself and her son to some other shelter. Unaware that he still had the roast beef, he got up and hurried back into the city to find shelter. Not even 10 minutes prior was the Square a familiar place to Nigel. Now it was a war zone, buildings ravaged beyond recognition, slabs of stone scattered about, as well a few unfortunate souls, their bodies strewn across the square, as if an angry child had thrown her dolls across the room. The returning clouds were getting closer, he could hear the rain coming down behind him, practically feel its hot sting at his heels once more. He had no idea where he was going, only that wherever it was, he was going to run like hell to get there. The storm came upon him sooner than expected. Bombs exploded all around him once more. The city of London shattered, and Nigel's hope of finding his family grew less and less dim with each drop of rain. Without warning an explosion from behind sent him flying off of his feet and into the air, searing heat could be felt upon his back.
Nigel lay sprawled across the ground for a moment, dazed and disoriented. The roast beef lay right in front of his face, but he cared no longer for the meat, only to be reunited with his loved ones. He staggered to his feet, and was for a moment lost. Surrounding buildings crumbled, and Nigel was seemingly alone in his world as it was coming to an end. He simply stood in the middle of the street, desiring silence, peace. Everything around him was tuned out, and he found himself hoping that the rain would fall directly on him, delivering him his fate. Suddenly a voice pierced the silence. "Nigel!" it was faint at first, drowned out by the terrible din of bad weather. "Nigel!!!" Nigel came back to the real world, sure he heard someone calling out to him. Despite the roar of the storm above and the rain all around, he tried desperately to focus on where it was coming from. This street looks familiar, he thought to himself. And then he realized why. This was the street Basil's was located! He jerked his head toward the market and saw Basil calling out to him. "Nigel, cummon! I have a shelter in the back!" Without thinking twice, Nigel shot off once more, one final sprint to safety. It suddenly seemed as if the storm grew nastier, one final torrent saved just for him. Despite it all, Nigel managed to meet with Basil, and the two men made their way to the shelter. Panting, Basil managed a sentence between gasps of air. "I... managed to...find something of yours." He clicked on the lights- Sarah was seated in the back of the bunker with Jr. seated on her lap. Her face met Nigel's, a look of relief met with his tears of joy. "Thank you, Lord, for keeping them safe."
Another few minutes had passed what seemed an eternity before the rain had finally come to a stop. Basil opened the bunker and the small group made their way back to the surface. Their faces were met with warm sunshine, something that was always welcome after a terrible storm. They looked around at their beloved city London, now in shambles. Nigel was grateful to be reunited with Sarah and their son, and he held them close as they walked towards the storefront and out into the street. He closed his eyes to pray silently, but was promptly interrupted. "Nigel!!!" Basil called out to him. "Look over there down the street, isn't that the roast beef I sold you this morning?" Nigel looked up. Sure enough, there it was, the dinner he had only that morning been craving so desperately. He had completely forgotten about it. "Well look at that!" Nigel smiled and looked at Sarah. "Well dear, look on the bright side; at least you won’t have to cook dinner tonight!" Sarah chuckled, albeit dryly. The day’s events were enough for her to not cook dinner for the next month. Nigel began to make his way towards the roast beef. No sooner did he take two steps that one final, stray bomb landed directly on his precious roast beef dinner.
THE END