A white dove shakes with fear; in six months the ancient olive grove has changed. No longer a place of tranquillity, providing shade from the burning sun for the flock of sheep and their Palestinian shepherd. Now, there is no shepherd, the sheep lie amidst the gnarled trunks of the cremated trees. The trees are dead. The sheep are dead.

What’s happened? The bird wonders, as it stares at the dense swarms of flies exploring the carcasses. Startled by a sudden noise, the dove flaps its wings to escape the surrounding horror. 
A viper slides across the razed grasses. Don’t go, it hisses. Are you a peace dove?
I am.
What do you want? the snake asks.
An olive branch.
You’ll need more than that with Netanyahu.
Did Netanyahu kill the sheep and burn the trees?
No, settlers did this.
Why?
To steal the land from the Palestinian farmers; Netanyahu likes that.
Surely killing the sheep and destroying the olive grove is stupid?
They are stupid. Sometimes it seems as if it’s more important to own barren land rather than allowing the Palestinians to keep what’s theirs.
How do you know? You’re just a snake, the dove says. 
I’m not just a snake. I’m a Palestinian viper! The Israeli government made me and my kind, the official snake of Israel, naming us the Palestinian viper to show their deep hatred of Palestinians. 
I don’t understand.
The snake hisses. Vipers are deadly poisonous. Palestinians are deadly poisonous. So? 
The dove nods, Palestinians and vipers are both poisonous and would be better dead. 
Got it in one. 
Have you been to the war? the Dove asks.
No. Too far for me. Anyway, I’d get killed and made into shoes.
I must see what’s being done.
Please come back and tell me.

The Dove hides amidst the rubble that was a home in the city of Rafah in Gaza. 

An old woman, entirely dressed in black, nurses a dead child as she sits amidst the domestic detritus created by the bombs. She weeps as she talks to the emaciated corpse in her lap. 

The Dove moves nearer to hear what she’s saying. 
Oh, my daughter’s daughter. Netanyahu and his kind are racists; we’re subhuman, and beneath contempt. At least you’ve escaped their racism. I was a teacher. I taught history. I told my students about Guernica in Spain in 1937 where Franco and his fascists murdered the innocents. I showed them Picasso’s painting. In 2024 Netanyahu and his army have murdered thousands, including using snipers to kill our children; no children means no future. 

The whine of a falling bomb is followed by a vast explosion near where they sit. 

Who will remember Gaza? Who will be our Picasso and paint our Shoah? Who will scream genocide? the woman shouts. 

Another bomb explodes. A blast of concrete shrapnel and glass lacerates the head and shoulders of the woman who falls dead.

The viper waits in vain for the dove to return.

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I hope you enjoyed this story. Please feel free to pass it on to others who may be interested. You can read my previous 500 word stories on my website www.philcoskerwriter.com under ‘Writing’.>>>More

© Phil Cosker 2024
Phil Cosker has asserted his right under the Copyright, Designs & Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work. All rights reserved; no part of this work may be reproduced or transmitted by any mean, electronic, mechanical, photocopying or otherwise without the prior permission of the author.