She wants to join them but can t. Instead she looks through the slits at the crowd outside as bits of the structurally-damaged towers, dome, and level beyond continue to tear off and fall apart like crumbs off old bread. But as they move back through the square, the people are changing. Their panic is lifting, transforming. Their faces hardening.
Fear becomes anger.
With an expression matching theirs she looks up to the driver, his purple uniform, weathered face, and newly scar-filled eye. But a man, an adult. His one good eye looks sadly back at her. And with icy terror she realizes he doesn t know. Send your comments to the editor .