Our parents said the gods were putting an end to it all. That they'd become fed up with us. But after the ash stopped falling the skies began to clear and our outlook changed. Not back to the way it was. Certainly not that.
While they all surveyed the aftermath and began the long and arduous chore of picking up the pieces we made our way to the coast. Our feet and ankles bruised from walking over pumice, we climbed up the hillside. When we finally reached the summit, chests heavy and hands filthy with soot, we looked to where Pompeii stood.
It was unrecognizable.