A troop of tanks crushed the forest floor under its tracks: now a squished mix of weeds, dirt, and blood. The blood doesn’t mix and rises to the top, creating a demolished field of crimson.
A soldier sits on a stump of a tree blown over by blasts.
“Men’s thirst for power is engraved into them, but it is a different kind of natural.
“While above ground, we destroy the Earth in our battles, but one day soon, the Earth will win the war, and we will be under it.
“Our bodies will crumble into compost and regrow what we’ve done.”
Part of weekly Friday Fictioneers where writers write short stories in 100 words or less based on a photo prompt.