"…Thought had spilled into their lungs while smoke heavily caressed
their skin and soot and ash naturally powdered them. Few rushed
riotously to present a distant whisper to the flame as
expressionless bricks laid themselves down again, scuffing
the streets made of old family…
…i stood still against a blur of cobblestone and grey as my
own lungs seeped their roots into the atmosphere; wood, earth, flesh.
all ambition was muted with an uncomfortable warmth that surrounded
us, ideals, opinions, dreams; this truly was our first death.
"