"Help!" the child had cried, "Mommy, help me!". No mother would come, nor would a father. The only soul to hear the child's cry was a police officer. And the officer did not see the child. He could not see the child for he, like the child, had been blinded by the thick, dirty ash that flowed through the city streets like a wave of vehement, murky lava seeking to still the bustling city. It would not lie its evil claim upon the city forever. But the city and its country, would remember the day the smoke swallowed the city.
