It was just a normal day. Me and my other friends whose parents had died were playing a game of football on the wrecked and poverty-stricken streets, aiming for gold posts made from lumps of old concrete. The ball was made of plastic bags put together. This was our source of entertainment. We would do this whilst taking it in turns to go around the deserted village and try to ambush animals for our meals. If we were lucky we would find a squirrel, a rare occurrence which happened every few months. Soon enough, it was my turn to hunt. About 10 minutes later I had left the game beyond the horizon. I had just finished my hunt and was returning with an impressive haul when I heard an explosion. I didn’t know where it had come from, so my walk turned into a jog, so I could get under cover soon. But soon enough, I realized what had happened. The venomous dust of the now intangible buildings of the city began to settle around me and acted like a blanket over the dead bodies. A few moments. I looked around for help before realizing I was now alone in this place. I looked up to dying sun, going over the horizon when I needed it the most, whilst it’s nemeses darkness appeared, chasing it’s enemy across the sky, without taking notice of my situation in this hole of Earth.