Her week lungs inhaled the poisonous air like balloons being blown up for a funeral. Her dusty brown hair quickly became straw-like in the intense explosion. Her once paper white teeth, now black and broken like the ebony ashes that lay quietly on the hot, burnt ground. Every brittle bone in her body that once was strong enough to care for the children of the village, now was too weak to go against gravity.

There was nothing left.

The houses gone.

The people dried up.

And worse of all, the hope that once existed within many, now vanished, like everything.