The War Begins

I drove in a city bus, visiting the region left outside. It's beeing blairy all the afternoon til now.

Outside sirens began to cry deeply all over the town. "Now the atomic war yet begins," I thought, regretting. But immediately I strengthened. Having been namby-pamby such a long time, all of a sudden I was the hero, invariably I planned to be.

The bus moved slowly forward through traffic jam, most of the ridership now waiting impatiantly close-by the doors. Others were already out. On the right side we saw fourty office containers, which served as station houses, stratified into four floors one upon the other, many of them in light gray and others in dark teal. "The style of the German police is cool, and disgusting too," I thought, recognizing the blackteal police badges being conspicuously affixed at certain points on any container.
Soon the Bus stopped at an underground working lot. Behind that on the left, bottom of the house was an old, small kiosk. On the other side of the crossing road a long channel went down.
Stepping outside, I registered the sirens being silent. But busy crowds were rumouring all around, running and jumping for their hideouts and bins.
I stepped on the bridge, wondering whether I'd find a fall-out shelter.
Then my life began.