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Ground Zero

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The air is thick with dust,
making it hard to breathe.
The stagnant grey cloud looms,
rubble blocking me from my surroundings
as my eyes begin to burn
and my lungs fill with the floating particulates.

Still disoriented, I hear men say,
“Get him to an ambulance. “
I can’t see how bad it is,
my vision is still blurred;
but as I raise my hand to my face,
all I can make out is crimson.
I try again to scour the rest of the damage,
but my eyes are still hazy.

Finally, our of the corner of my eye,
I make out the distorted outline of an ambulance.
I attempt to sigh in relief,
but all I can do is cough.

The stretcher is lifted into the back,
and quickly snapped into place.
The doors slam closed,
providing haven from the destruction and distraught.

Slowly,
my lungs clear
and my vision returns
I see the faces of the men around me,
full of fear, yet completely empty.
Mustering what little strength I have left, I mutter,
“Don’t worry sir, you’re going to be alright. “





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