There was a war. And although i coudn’t possible jugde as i was fighting as well, in this war, it was quite clear which was the bad side. But which was the good, nobody can define.

We fought and the war was on our land. The places before recognized as ours, slowly dissapeared, crumbled into a warzone.

Since the war had been going on for a while, we took turns in the shelter. It had become important that our cruisers, coloured in red and white, would pass the darkest street, which had sometime before, been a shopping center. We had ganed victory with this for two times, third would win us the war. The breavest of our soldiers took turns as it was our time to rest.

Our leader couldn’t see the value of our battle. Of disbelief, naivety, or whatever reason, she had gone up the hills to her house, where she had started both baking and vacuuming. She never game back.

Me and my brother did. We went down the hills and to a road, where we waited to be called back into the field. Bus number 26. The wait was overly long and as the hills surrounded us, we reminicsed our childhood and were glad of this quite usual and ordinary pleasure of sharing. The buses came and went, few of them which were in the shades of beige, but not number 26.

We waited too long and so i woke up.