The Stream of Broken Memories

As our boat floats down the river carried only by the water’s current, we give a last look at what was once our home, our parent’s home, and the home of their parents; now consumed almost entirely by fire.
A shiver runs down my spine as the black fire rises, not just from our last attachment to this place and our roots, but from the attachments of others, the entire city soon up in flames.
Our boat keeps floating, floating down a stream of memories broken, watching them disappear further one by one. Will this fire ever stop burning? Even if it does in the city, I know it will never do in my mind and heart. I’ve been scarred by it, we all have.

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