Monday, October 19, 2015



      Black and white... Black ash, covering the ground, the trees, the rock face – blackened trees, cracked and bent – smoldering piles that still curled with choking smoke - black...and white. White and blackened bones – skulls - some crushed, as if the dragons, not satisfied with having torched everyone – had purposely walked across them.

    I felt blank. The terror I'd felt up until now shut off – like a candle being blown out. There was no grief – not yet... All I felt was numbness as it crept from the tips of my fingers and down my arms.

       Black. White. Grey. Death.

        Looking at those bones – some collapsed in piles, others at the edge of the clearing as if some had woken from the dragon song and tried to run - I knew that my village was dead.

        I made myself walk across the clearing to the cave. I didn't look down, though I stumbled several times. Almost every step resounded in loud popping and cracking. I didn't let myself think about it.

         The dogs followed quietly behind me. In the midst of it all, somewhere inside me I was grateful I wasn't totally alone.

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