Liam Pinkelman

Reminiscing

The only thing I remember about the blast is the heat. I’m sure there was a sound loud enough to pop eardrums and shatter glass. There must have been a light brighter than a thousand suns, and a wave of force strong enough to rip buildings off their foundation. At the moment, these must not have felt important. I just remember heat like the worst sunburn I’d ever had, then waking up in the rubble feeling like I had been microwaved. I lied alone, covered in blisters, most of my clothes incinerated except for the heart locket my mother had given me on her deathbed. “Watching over you” was inscribed on the side, protecting a picture of us from when I was young and she was healthy. Its superheated metal left a small heart shaped scar on my chest.