Sea of Piles

The Sea of Piles extended far beyond the horizon. It smelled like rust and iron.

Belch was standing at the end, peeking through the odd waves that formed from the shift of the grey winds and fogs. He got used to the scent of that mass of wreckage a long time ago, and did not care much. 

Periodically he would set expeditions to salvage scraps from the sea. It was slow and relentless, always moving and changing the places of things. Once people tried to build things on it, just to have them scrambled in a matter of hours. A whole lot of useful things could yet be found there, if you happened to be in the right time and place. Belch would not venture too far from the coast, however. It was not safe.

The sky looked forever patchy and ominous. There would be no signs of rain that day, Belch thought. After some time he could tell the weather as easily as a duck would go north in winter season. He scratched his peppered beard and went inside, feeling his bones chill with the breeze. His shack was made of steel and properly built by his father. It would shake and rasp, but never failed to resist against ironstorms and hurricanes. 

Inside, Belch took a sip from his muggle and tasted the bitterness of his coffee. The steam flowed through the air and danced to the rhythm of the heater blows. The radio was on.

"...the struggle seems to be coming to an end" said a female voice. "The United States of East America have subdued Saint Petersburg forces in the Arctic front and will descend to Moscow, resulting in what could be the end of the war."

While the radio reporter rambled on, Belch only smiled a bit. "There's no way it can ever be won", he thought. "Unless..."

The reporter continued. "...New York seems to doubt the capacity of the Russian top military officers to activate the few nuclear ogives left in enemy territory. 'We have them under cybercontrol', said earlier the Secretary of Defense Bruce Weinberger. It seems somehow unclear if..."

Belch yawned, suddenly tired. "Maybe that's what we need to end all this. Maybe it's time for something biblical", he said.

Outside the winds were ravishing sand and steel. An ironstorm was certainly on its way.

(Apocalypse Please)