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Bomb


I am the last of my kind.

There were once many like me before today, but after the sirens started ringing out across the streets and the enemy planes flew over our skies, we all knew our time had come.

My brothers and sisters all fell into the flames of war, flickering out like candles in a strong gust of wind, no remains to bury. A mass global holocaust scorched us all, with no bias over which nation we called home. My plane was the last to leave the military base, and now I survey all the destruction my kind has brought.

In a way, I'm glad we'll no longer exist after me.

And now, as I fall to my bitter demise, I reflect on what our creator had intended for us in the beginning. Why, in order to protect humanity, had he created us, the atomic bombs?