PHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bultot
Ari’s gaze was transfixed by the ner tamid just in front of the Aron Kodesh. Sweaty hands gripped his rifle as sirens continued to wail outside. He’d hoped to marry Esther here, but now it was too late. There would be no stopping them this time.
At least his fiancée was safe in the shelter along with both their parents. He’d been separated from his unit during the last bombardment and was drawn to the synagogue. His family had made Aliyah when he was four. Now he was a soldier about to die when France’s nuclear missiles obliterated Tel Aviv.
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