The aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the room and warmed my soul, while war ensued outside. Yelling and crying converged into unintelligable static between the gunfire and explosions. Citizens raced for safety—they raced for their lives.

A news reporter narrated the events in front of a camera, as if immune to the sprawling violence. He crouched low, raised his voice, and pointed towards the main road.

A squad of soldiers closed in, weapons snug and ready; expecting an ambush, but continuing nonetheless.

The rich nutty taste of coffee soothed, and I raised the rifle, got a soldier in the crosshairs, and fired.

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