I don’t know how long it’s been since the blast. I don’t know if I’m alive or dead, but I can hear my breathing. Or maybe it’s the beating of my heart. It’s the only thing I can hear.
I can remember the way she looked at me, or looked. I don’t know if she was looking at me, but the stare in her eyes was that of a distant storm. A restless beauty, a rumbling and rambling quiet, the vibration of thunder.