Day Nine Hundred Forty Two #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

It was a bumpy ride to Damascus. We weren’t allowed to talk. And our captors were tight-lipped as well. There was little we could do but look out the windows at the passing scenes.

At one point outside Damascus we were inching along in the congestion when I saw a tanker truck by the side of the road. In the cab I saw Elam and he saw me.

I still dwelt on the chance sighting this morning as they loaded us into the back of a windowless truck. We were still forbidden to speak, but somehow I knew that Elijah was more in the know than he let on.

By evening we were processed into a prison cell somewhere.

Day Three Hundred Five #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

It’s been a long and trying day. But I must say it was worse for those attempting to harm us.

It started early. Before we were awake. But the crashing sounds of the assault fixed that.

Still, by the time we opened our door to look, it had fallen silent again. It took several minutes before we could ascertain what had happened. The stairwells at both ends of our floor were clogged with dead bodies. All trampled.

From our room we called down to Stan to come and remove the bodies. For answer we received some bricks through the windows.

Little by little bodies were dragged from the building. And a new perimeter was set up.

Four days no more.