Unseen

Short Fiction

Artwork by Jerome Dimaano

It was a slow, painful torture. Countries hid away, turning out everyone in fear. Isolated, quarantined — wishing not another one will die in vain.

We clamped down on movement; towns on lockdown, cities are restrained. Some fled, some stashed, some stayed…

There was nothing to shoot at — no missiles, grenades, no combat. It was all the unseen enemy...

the virus that killed many.

#LATHEtirary