Did not like the sirens…

imagesToday I was walking Boza and it was around noon.

All of a sudden the air was full of that long running, wailing, lower and higher at a top decibel siren associated with air raids…

The world got very quiet and mothers hurried their children in strollers to their homes, babushkas hobbled home and it seemed that even the cars stopped moving. Everything got quiet and even the crows stared around at what was filling the air…

A babushka hobbled near us (Boza and I) and she was crying tears from her eyes. She was going on in a panic and was actually going in a circle. She kept looking at the sky and I put her at almost 90 years old…

My heart sank and a fear for these people welled up in me…

I went to her and offered her my arm. She looked at me, little tears running down her face, she then looked at the sky and said, “воздушный налет! (air raid!)”

I shook my head no and pointed at the buildings and said, “домой! (Home!)”

Then she pointed at the nearest building and the second door to the right. I walked her slowly to her door, with her holding on to my arm with a death grip. She had the strength of fear in her and Boza and I left her after she went in, muttering thank you…

She had said many things to me as we walked arm in arm and she kept looking at the sky. She was shaking as if she was frozen to the point of death and to be truthful, I am sure she has lived through what an air raid truly is about. I have…

I wonder what she would think if she knew I was an American, one of the same people that want her dead? At least in their eyes we do! That makes me sad and it makes me angry at my government for doing such things. I am not stupid and it is clear as day who is instigating what is happening in the world right now…

For over a half an hour the sirens wailed.

Boza and I walked in an empty world and to be honest, I was not sure if we would still be on earth, for if it was not a test and I have never heard a test yet in Moscow. Ten years I have lived here in Russia, and this is the first one I have heard…

Boza and I walked and I kept working with him, for he is very blind and when the sirens stopped, we went home. Before we got home, the world started to move again. Mothers pushing strollers, cars seemed to move again and the local grocery store opened their gate to receive food items…

It had all come to a stop…

* * * * * * * * * *

Now I am writing about what happened.

It is important, very important, for it tells me about our mortality and what could be coming when these sirens go off. It could have been today that we all die and I realized that Boza and I would walk into the new sunset that would be produced…

My distaste for what America is doing has just grown. I will send an e-mail to my son today. I will tell him to get ready and I do hope he has what it takes to get ready for what might happen if America does not back off…

I don’t think that we are any farther away from a minute away on the Doomsday Clock, even if the clock is saying three minutes till. It was last updated in January of 2015 and much has happened since then and it looks and feels to me as if we are just seconds away now…

Today I wish that Svetochka, her mother, Boza, my son and his family and her (Svetochka’s) son and family were all in the Tiny Russian Village with me. I wish I was there right now, but I have to figure out how to get Svetochka and entourage there with me. For I understand and have figured out the chances of us surviving there…

Moscow is a molten pool of radioactive liquid, if war breaks out, just like New York City will be. But the Tiny Russian Village is very far from everything, at least everything that will be bombed. If the wind is right, we will make it…

For some reason I want to live and see the new world, but if I can’t? I will watch the fireworks, for hiding under a million tons of rubble and molten rock, is not the answer for me. But if I am able, I want to see what becomes of us, if a Nuclear War breaks out…

Morbid curiosity? Maybe!

Today was very clear to me; Russians are getting ready for that last hurrah of a war and there are many old Russians that still have memories of the last war…

That is the difference between America and Russia. Russia does not think this is a game and Americans do not know what to think, for they are being umbrella covered and snookered…

* * * * * * * * * *

There is a lot of things in the world that we can play games with and get away with those games. But when one side (Russia) of those so called games is serious and the other (America) thinks they are being cool. Then the game player (America,) who is doing it for internal political, distractions and Geopolitical reasons, is playing with fire…

As any kid knows, the stove is hot to touch, but that kid usually had to learn the heard way…

Lets hope America is a little more grown up than that!

WtR

About the Author

Russian_Village

A survivor of six heart attacks and a brain tumor, a grumpy bear of a man, whom has declared Russia as his new and wonderful home. His wife is a true Russian Sweet Pea of a girl and she puts up with this bear of a guy and keeps him in line. Thank God for my Sweet Pea and Russia.