A day we must never forget, and pray the world never relives. Thank you, Nelkumi, for sharing the horrors those you loved lived through.
A siren pierces my ears. Planes zip above my head.
I run, zigzagging, hiding behind trees.
A loud explosion stops me. I turn around and see a bright ray penetrate the sky.
Then, I hear the sound of rumble. Houses, buildings, and poles crumble down onto earth, leaving me in darkness.
Without being able to see, I start to hear voices. Cries and whimpers. “Help me.” “It hurts.”
People begin to emerge from behind the thick curtain of dust and smoke. Some have pieces of glass stuck in them, bleeding. Others have their torn and blood-red flesh hanging from their bodies.
Many lie asking for water. Once they finish gulping water, they expire.
Hospitals and infrastructure are gone, and deceased and injured converge. I cannot even recognize some, and numbness takes over.
When dusk comes on, I see the town drowned in red flame, which wouldn’t cease for nights and…
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Wow, did I get lucky. This new townhome I’m moving into has everything I want — including an owner who’s putting in new carpet and has re-painted the entire place. Downstairs, the color will work perfectly with my bedroom decor; upstairs matches the living room better than I could have dreamed.
Right now my kitty Walter is curled up in my lap, purring and cooing his comfort. He and his sister Mimi showed up at the door of my current apartment, lost and lonely, abandoned and needy. They are delightful cats and I never would have met them if the bad things in my life hadn’t happened.
My World With Words 
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