There is nothing left. The “explosion” took everything. I have no food, no money, no home, no clothes, nothing. I don’t even have a family anymore. I don’t even have the truth. As I walk the streets, looking for shelter for the night, I am constantly wondering whether the world in front of me is a reality or simply an illusion that my mind has conjured up to console my fragile state of being. That “explosion” wasn’t an explosion. That “explosion” was the freedom of a terrible reality. So, what lies ahead of me? Pain? Devastation? No. There’s absolutely nothing.