My ears and nose were bleeding; the scorching heat had burnt the skin from my hands.
High above our city, a cloud rose gracefully into a perfect, blue morning sky – it was so beautiful, a shimmering haze of reds, yellows and greens.
The suffocating, hot air was filled with sounds of terror and despair. I couldn’t find my mother.
On the corner where our house once stood, now nothing, but smouldering timbers and dust-covered rubble. In my confusion, I briefly doubted that a home had ever existed in this place.
The pitiful screams became louder; the sparkling cloud rose slowly higher.
These words form my entry into Friday Fictioneers photo prompt challenge.