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Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

SAUVIGNON BLANC 1940: THE GRAPES OF WRATH

            Nine-year-old Laurel shivered and rubbed her eyes.

            “Are we going to die, Mum?”

            Her mother held her tight and shouted over concussions that juddered the shelter. 

            “The storm will pass.”

             The ceiling caved in, their lantern shattered on the floor and her world went black.   

            In the morning sirens sounded the “all clear” and by afternoon civil defense workers had dug their way through to them.

            Laurel squeezed Mum’s cold, stiff hand.  “Wake up. Please, wake up. The bombers are gone.”

****

            In the cold darkness of the wine cellar the storm still raged.

            Eighty-one-year-old Laurel shivered and rubbed her eyes.